The Doofuzz Dudes

The Doofuzz Dudes Rescue Moondar (2006), The Doofuzz Dudes: The Princess Detector (2006), The Doofuzz Dudes: The Babbling Bottles (2006), and The Doofuzz Dudes: the Black Pearl of Laramoth, all by Roslyn J. Motter, (White Hawk Publishing), illustrated by Kimberly Nelson. Ages 7-9.














I'm going to start by saying right out front that my seven year old adores, just adores, this series. Here are his thoughts: "The Doofuzz Dudes series is good for kids seven and older because it's very creative and has a lot of magic. (Five year old brother, a bit plaintively: But I like it). I really like this series, and my friends will like it too. It's really good. I like the writing and pictures, as well as the front covers. I enjoyed it. The use of words is very creative and increases some kids' vocabularies along with their reading and writing skills."

He is, in fact, the intended audience. And these books are great for the 7-8 year old boy, who has perhaps read the Dragon Slayer Academy series, but isn't ready for Harry Potter.

Back in February, Australian writer Roslyn J. Motter offered me books 1-4 of the Doofuzz Dudes series. Thinking they might appeal to my son (and how right I was), I accepted. When they arrived, I started reading to myself...but didn't get very far. So the four books languished for a while in one of my many book piles, until one day my son found them.

"Wow! What are these?" he asked. "They look cool!' And indeed the cover appeal of the books is quite high. So I started reading them out loud to him, and before long he was sufficiently engaged so as to read large chunks of the text to me (which is a most excellent thing for him to do, being not yet a truly independent reader). Before long, this had become his favorite series in the world. When he was asked to make a book character puppet for school, he chose Zarundok, a wizard character who appears in all the books. We read them slowly, because I kept making him do his share, but he was always anxious to get back to them. And he is looking forward to book number 5, which will be out in the relatively near future.

These are books that I would unhesitatingly give as birthday gifts to his contemporaries (particularly since they aren't available in bookstores in the USA, reducing the chances that the kid will already have them). As soon as we've finished this review, my son will be lending them to his friends. I'd like my public library to have copies, because I truly think they'll circulate, but it's looking like we'll be keeping our copies.

So, here's what they are:

In book one, we meet our hero, Toby Doofuzz, who is just about to turn nine. On his birthday party treasure hunt, Toby, his brother, and two friends (who call themselves the Doofuzz Dudes) find a mysterious chest buried in a cave. And in the chest is a book, "Spells for a Magical King," and a jeweled crown. Toby puts on the crown, and begins to read...and out of the book jump hundreds of small people. "All hail King Toby!" they cry, and so begins the quest of King Toby and his friends to restore these people, the Moondarians, to their homeland. Into a magical world they journey, lead by the wizard Zarundok, with each chapter bringing a new challenge--guard geese, a joking giant, the Puzzle Master, a dragon, biting trees, and the evil Prince Florian--until the inhabitants of Moondar are safely home.

In books two, three, and four, the boys return to face new challenges with Zarundok's help, meeting scores of fantastical creatures and journeying to strange new places. And always the shadow of Prince Florian looms over their adventures!

Episodic adventures in short chapters are a type of storytelling that, I think, works well for kids who aren't flying off on their own into longer and more complex books. However, these aren't books that most adult readers would want to curl up with, because the linear narrative style and episodic plots mightn't be quite complex enough to satisfy (at least they weren't for me). Likewise, the books' characters, although real enough for my son's purposes, don't quite achieve flesh and blood status in my more critical/jaded adult mind. However, the fourth book is by far the best, and book 5 may be better still.

The books are illustrated by the author's young niece, and for me, combined with the writing style, this created an illusion that the books themselves were written by someone young. I think that this is part of what makes the books so kid friendly--the unintimidating story telling might well make it easier for kids to become absorbed by the fantastical world of Moondar.

As I mentioned above, you won't be able to walk into a bookstore in the US and buy these books, but you can order them online here. For more information about the books, here's the Doofuzz Dudes website.

Boys and Reading--some rambling thoughts inspired by a great article

Via Jen Robinson's Book Page, I found this very, very interesting article from Reading Rockets --Boys and Books, by Jane McFann (2004). Here's the introduction:

The statistics are consistent: Young male readers lag behind their female counterparts in literacy skills. This article looks at the social, psychological, and developmental reasons why, and suggests solutions — including the need for more men to become role models for reading.

I think there are many more books available that have appeal to boys (see, for instance, Guys Read) than there were in my youth way back in the 70s (I could be wrong about this, since I myself was busily reading Enid Blyton ad nauseam at the time and not much else).

But it is hard, sometimes, for me to put the books my boys want into their outstretched and eager hands. It is much easier to buy books that appeal to me, than books that really truly don't. This is one reason I like libraries so much, because I let them check out anything their little hearts desire. Ditto those occasions when they help me with book sorting for the library used book sales. Well I remember the fight they had over the organic chemistry textbook two years ago--one wanted it so that I could teach him chemistry (ha ha ha), the other wanted it because it was red. The point of this, though, is that I think you can raise a child to love books even before they love the process of reading.

However, there are limits. When he was two, older son desperately wanted me to buy him an SAT practice book at a used book store (mainly, I think, because he wanted to color in all the circles). I wasn't about to spend $10 on it, and the ensuing emotional distress wasn't pretty. I did, however, buy him a really ghastly book about textiles a few months later. It was only $1, it made him happy, and it kept us from being persona non grata at that book store (unlike the one above), but still. It is harder when I take them to a real book store, where I am expected to spend real money.

What books have you bought for your own children that you can't stand, or read over and over to them despite well-concealed boredom or revulsion simply to encourage their love of books?

ps: One outstanding father in regard to reading to his son is Calvin's dad (from Calvin and Hobbs), who apparently has had to read "Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kabblooie" every night for years. Someone has actually had the nerve to write the book. I shall not dignify it with a link.

"Words and Pictures" exhibit opening

This Thursday, June 19th, a new exhibit opens at the NeuroDevelopement Center in downtown Providence, RI. With the help of brain wave tracking technology, visitors will see how artwork and stories are conceptualized and how they are an integral part of a child’s brain development.

The exhibit opening looks like a lot of fun--local authors and illustrators Mary Jane Begin, Christopher and Anika Denise, Jill Lamere, Maro Garnsworth, and sculptor Ellen Blomgren will be on hand reading and drawing, and kids will also have a chance to create their own Brain Painting:


I hope they let the grownups do it too, because I want a beautiful picture straight from my very own brain. And not that I'm competitive or anything, but I just sort of want to see if my brain's picture would be the prettiest....

In addition, the NeuroDevelopment Center’s psychologists will be on hand to demonstrate EEG-guided brain-training and discuss its benefits for children with ASD, ADHD and other brain-based difficulties.

Timeslip Tuesday -- London Calling

Welcome to the second edition of Timeslip Tuesday, a day on which I look at books whose characters travel through time, and invite other bloggers to do the same (please leave a link in the comments for me to put in the post!).

Today's book is London Calling, by Edward Bloor (Alfred A. Knopf, 2006, 289pp).

John Martin Conway has spent seventh grade at All Souls Preparatory, New Jersey, in a state of depression. At the school on an employee scholarship (his mom's a secretary), his grades are mediocre, and his only friends two other outcasts. All three live in fear of the school bully, Hank Lowrey IV, whose great grandfather, a general in World War II, left the school a generous endowment. After school ends, he retreats to his basement bedroom, rarely coming out. When his grandmother dies, she leaves him the radio his grandfather had brought home from England in 1941, and Martin begins leaving it on as a nightlight, and its tuner, set between stations, as soothing background noise.

Then the first dream comes.

"A boy--small, thin, dressed in mud-brown clothes--leaned out from behind the radio and whispered, "Johnny, will you help me?"

And so Martin begins a strange life of travelling through time to WW II London, where the blitz is raging and Jimmy's world has become one of deadly chaos. Jimmy can't tell Martin what help he needs--instead, Martin must live through a hellish part of London's past until he sees for himself.

"As I stared down at the street, I expected to find myself transported back to my own bed, in my own time, but that didn't happen. I was still in London, in 1940, in the middle of an air raid, and I had no idea what to do next....

The scene around me was horrifying. The bombers had wreaked massive destruction , and the bombs were continuing to fall. Between the shattering bursts of the explosions, I could hear voices crying out in the dark, in pain and terror."

Trying to figure out if the people and places he sees in the past are real, Martin spends the present doing historical research, that incidentally changes received wisdom about General Lowrey. But to find out what help Jimmy needs, he must keep going back in time, until the pieces of the past fall into place. And then he must travel to England himself to bring news from the past to one who lived through it.

This is classic timesliping at its best. There are no science fiction contrivances, simply the unexplained power of the radio that calls Martin back in time. The mysterious boy from the past with his plea for help leads Martin deeper and deeper into a quest for answers. The clues that Martin learns from his visits to WW II London and his discoveries in the present combine beautifully, and as an added bonus to the story, Martin's quest to help gives him a sense of purpose that draws him out of the basement into better relationships with his family.

There's such a lot going on in this book that I glossed over large bits of it. Here are some other reviews that bring up other points -- at Bewildering Stories, at Blog Critic Magazine, and at Kittenpie Reads Kidlit.

And coincidentally, five hours before I wrote this, Colleen Mondor blogged at Guys Lit Wire about books with strong and heroic boy characters, and included London Calling. Indeed, one of the strengths of this book is Martin's metamorphosis from depressed basement dweller to strong and purposeful hero, who seeks to fulfill his obligation to Jimmy no matter what. The fact that he largely accomplishes this through dogged historical research, as opposed to whacking bad guys, makes the book even more appealing in my eyes.


From other blogs:

Liz from A Chair, a Fireplace, and a Tea Cozy is in with a look at King of Shadows, by Susan Cooper.
Lisa from Under the Covers is in with a new one for me-- Ghost Letters, by Stephen Alter.


From Timeslipe Tuesday 1, here: Don't Know Where, Don't Know When, by Annette Laing, 2007

Hermit Crabs for Nonfiction Monday

If you are looking for a picture book about hermit crabs, probably you will end up with A House for a Hermit Crab, by Eric Carle (Simon and Schuster, 1991). This is a fine book in many ways (I like it, my children like it, people all over the country like it) but as far as science goes, I can't help but thing that Carle has vaguely confused decorator crabs with hermit crabs--the titular crab wanders through a year, gathering both new companions and new living accouterments for his shell. Unlikely behaviour for a hermit crab (hence the name?). And although Carle's illustrations are artistically admirable, they aren't a reliable guide to real life creatures.

Here are two hermit crab picture books that do the subject more naturalistic justice.

The first is Old Shell, New Shell: a Coral Reef Tale, by Helen Ward (Millbrook Press, 2002).

"This crab was very small
but he had been smaller
and the shell he owned
and loved
was getting tight."

He was beginning to look obvious
though he tried hard not to."

So he sets out to look for a new shell, soliciting the help of passing sea creatures, none of whom are the least bit interested. His quest takes an anxious turn when he is knocked out of his old shell, and tumbles down into one that is much much to big. But all is resolved happily when he meets another hermit crab, larger than he is, who has outgrown her shell...

The illustrations are full of lovely lifelike detail, and there are lots of things to spot on every page. A very pleasing book.

But here is the book that I think is the Best Hermit Crab Book Ever-- Hermit Crab's Home: Safe In a Shell, by Janet Halfman, illustrated by Bob Dacey and Debra Bandelin (2007, Smithsonian Institution). In both the two books above, we start in medias res, with the outgrowing of the old shell. Hermit Crab's Home begins at the beginning, with the tiny egg of a Land Hermit Crab tossed onto seashore rocks. It follows the hermit crab through the adventures of life as a hermit crab on land, including the obligatory finding a new shell episode (in her case, it comes from a sandcastle). And it ends with the crab casting her own eggs into the water.

One reason I liked this book so much is that the pictures are up close and low down--the world as a crab might see it. The menacing ghost crab looming above is quite spooky, the sand castle quite magical. I found the straight forward narrative of the crab's life more interesting than the more stylized renditions of the other two authors. It's more a story. Maybe the book even appealed so much to me because the crab protagonist is female. But maybe not--it also appealed to my boys!

Here are more Nonfiction Monday reviews, at Picture Book of the Day.

How To Ditch Your Fairy

How to Ditch Your Fairy, by Justine Larbalestier (2008, Bloomsbury, 320pp).

In the future-ish city of New Avalon, just about everyone has their own fairy. 14 year old Charlie's is a parking fairy. Yep, whenever she's in a car, it will always find a prime parking spot, first try. But that sort of magic is not nice at all for a a girl who's not old enough to drive, and who hates the smell of gas and car exhaust. She longs to have a better fairy--a clothes fairy, like her friend Rochelle, or even an "every boy will like you fairy," like her non-friend, Fiorenze (her fairy has the coincidental side effect of having the opposite effect on girls). Seeing her new friend Steffi, just about the cutest guy she's ever known, falling under the spell of Fiorenze's fairy is enough to drive her over the edge.

So Charlie tries to starve her fairy off, by avoiding mechanical transportation, hoping for a better one to come replace it. She can feel her fairy getting fainter, but in the meantime, she's constantly running late, and raking up demerits at her ultra strict all sports school. And then she find herself kidnapped by the school's star water polo player, who needs her parking luck for his own possibly nefarious purposes.

Fiorenze isn't happy with her fairy either. The two desperate girls are both sure nothing could be worse than what they're stuck with, and so they hatch a plan....

This is a very fun read, with the surreal sports school setting (all sports all the time) providing a wacky background to the even greater wackiness of all the fairies. And the fairies in turn give a new and imaginative spin to the more mundane story at the heart of the book--the familier one of a teenage girl trying to cope with a hectic life, wanting to make the basketball team, wanting a cute boy to like her, and wanting her best friend's clothes fairy to work on her, too.

It seems to me, in a vague sort of way, that fairies started appearing on the little girls' book scene about 10 years or so ago, and are still going strong today. If I knew any middle grade girls who were fans of those pink books with winged thingies on their covers, who are now in 8th grade or so (the publisher suggests ages 12 and up), this is the book I'd give them as a present.

How To Ditch You Fairy is due out in October, but you can read reviews by other people who have been enjoying their Advance Reader Copies (thanks, Bloomsbury) at Teen Book Review, Lessons from the Tortoise, at Librarilly Blond, and at Imperial Purple. And then just for kicks you can head over to Justine Larbalestier's blog, to read about her reading the reviews of her readers...

off topic-- roses on my barn

We wanted a red rose climbing up the barn, and voila--there it is! It will be three years old next month. The barn is 108 years old.

For pictures of the gardens of other bloggers, visit A Wrung Sponge.

My husband adds: The Rosaerie in Maine seems to be able to get most roses to grow quite far north. This one has the rather mundane name Parkdirektor Riggers. Unfortunately the genes for "climber" and "red" outshove the gene for "scentiferous."

In For Winter, Out for Spring

Generally when I read books of poetry, I try to carefully consider the poems and the illustrations, and think about why, or why not, they work for me. This wasn't the case when I read In for Winter, Out for Spring, by Arnold Adoff, illustrated by Jerry Pinkney (1991, Harcourt Brace and Co.). Instead I found myself thinking about the girl who is speaking the poems. I wanted to be little again myself, and to be her friend. The book is a verse story of her year, and I would like to play in the snow with her, dig the ground after the frost is over, pick mulberries, carve pumpkins, and so on, back to winter.

Which is not to say that I wasn't also appreciating the lovely poems as poems and the gorgeous illustrations, because I was. But the poems and pictures, with their focus on one little girl's experience of family, home, her garden, and the natural world, combine to paint a vivid picture of one very nice girl and her loving family that is more than the sum total of the parts.

Here's a poem I especially liked, but of course Blogger, bless its little heart, isn't letting me format it exactly the way it is in the book. Arggggh.

Aaron

My Older Brother
Once Told Me He
Was the Ruler Of This Hedge
Last
Year I had to Have Permission
To Pick Wild Violets For Mom

This Morning Aaron
Sits
In A
School
And I Am The New Boss
Of Hedge Trees
And Mole Holes
And Violets And Black Bugs
Under
Green
Moss

Thanks very much to Elaine, of Wild Rose Reader, from whom I received this book during her Poetry Month giveaways! It is truly lovely.

Poetry Friday is at A Wrung Sponge today!

The Owl Service available on DVD

I was pretty awestruck to see a comment by Alan Garner over at the Fidra blog, which I read regularly. Vanessa was talking about book banding in the UK, and Garner contributed his thoughts. My mental image of Garner is so tied his physical place--his home in Cheshire next to Alderley Edge,--that it's hard for me to imagine him as an online presence. Garner is the author of some truly excellent books for children, my favorite of which is The Owl Service.

So that led me to a google search, to see if a new book was forthcoming (no mention of one), and then on to the unofficial Alan Garner website, which has links galore to articles, interviews, and much more. Including a link to a newspaper article about a real life Owl Service event, headlined "Neighbor Killed by Owl, Not Husband."

Wandering around the Garner website, I found the perfect birthday present for my husband, who is a Garner devotee to the highest degree (the type who thinks Red Shift is a masterpiece, as opposed to those of us who think it is too depressing to even have in the same room as us let alone read), and who should now stop reading this if in fact he is.

Back in 1969, a television series was made of the Owl Service. It was filmed on location, in color, with Garner's active participation throughout the process. Here's a fascinating article about its production. Even though it was filmed in color, it was broadcast in black and white, but in February it was released as a dvd in color. With bonus features.

There are, of course, lots of movie adaptations of children's books flowing forth like, um, floodwaters or whatever, and most of them I have no particular interest in seeing. But the Owl Service, made with the creative involvement of the book's author, is one I look forward to watching.

And perhaps I shall also buy my husband another book for his Garner collection:

Timeslip Tuesday- Don't Know Where, Don't Know When

Charlotte Sometimes, The Ghosts, A String in the Harp, London Calling, The Time Garden, Moondial…all of these, and many more, are timeslip stories that I want to write about at some point. So I have decided that every Tuesday will be “Timeslip Tuesday” until I run out of books....

A timeslip story is simply one in which characters pass from one time to another, either forward or backward, generally without a mechanical device such as a time machine. I count ghost stories when the ghost characters are in fact characters traveling in time, and not just spooky special effects. If anyone reading this has a timeslip story they reviewed on their own blog, leave me a link, and I’ll make a list!

My first official Timeslip Tuesday Review is of a new book I just read for Mother Reader's 48 Hour Reading Challenge- Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When, by Annette Laing (2007, Confusion Press, 206 pages, for Middle Grade readers). It was a perfect choice—brisk story telling, likeable characters, and a great plot.

Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When throws three kids back in time from present day Snipesville, Georgia, into World War II England. Hannah, her brother Alex, and their friend Brandon are now war evacuees from London, struggling to figure out what is happening and why they have traveled through time. Then Brandon slips through time again to the England of World War I…and the mystery deepens. At its heart is the identity of George Braithwaite, the English child whose WW II identity card Brandon found in present day Georgia. Until George is found, there’s no going home.

I am very picky about books that talk about things I am knowledgeable about, in particular books that feature American kids coping with the alien life of the English, because I’ve been there and done that myself, and married as I am to someone from England, I am constantly confronted with Differences. And secondly, I am picky about books that involve time travel to periods that I know a lot about (even though in the case of WW I and II England, my knowledge comes from works of fiction). So I approached Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When in my naturally suspicious way. Not far into it, my attitude had changed—I was now rooting for the author. “Please don’t mess up!” I thought, because Laing was doing such a good job making me believe in her characters and their experience that I didn’t want any jarring mistakes to throw me out of the story. And there weren’t any to speak of—hooray!

Here’s another point that makes this book worth recommending—one of the kids, Brandon is black, and as far as I know this is the only book for kids published in America that addresses what it was like to be a black kid in WW II and WW I England. (The other two kids, Hannah and Alex, have a Portuguese last name, Dias, that gets Anglicized to Day in WW II, making this book the only work of fiction for kids that addresses the Portuguese-American Child's Experience of WW II Evacuation :) ).

This is the first book The Snipesville Chronicles; volume two (featuring the same kids, but in a different time and place) is being written. If you are looking for a new series for a kid who loved the Magic Tree House Books three or four years ago, this might well be it.



Over at Becky's Book Reviews are a great interveiw with Annette Laing, and Becky's review of this book.

Age Banding in Britain

The scheme to put age banding on children's books (7+, 8 + etc) in the UK has kicked up a storm of protest. Here's the "No to Age Banding" website where you can read a petition signed by UK authors and educators and illustrators and other book type people (including Alan Garner)...1215 when I last looked.

For more on the Author's Rebellion, here's an article that came out last Friday in the Bookseller, from which the following quote is taken:

In the statement the authors outline a number of reasons why age-ranging is damaging: it will discourage children from reading outside their age band; it is over-prescriptive; and it is unnecessary in that there are plenty of clues on books as to their target reader. "To tell a story as well and inclusively as possible, and then find someone at the door turning readers away, is contrary to everything we value about books, and reading, and literature itself," it says.

And here's an eloquent discussion of the issue from a children's book seller in Scotland, and a great post from Liz over at A Chair, a Fireplace, and a Teacozy.

The whole concept of age banding seems so unnecessary to me. So Brave New World-ish. These generalizing assumptions about people based on their age could lead to societal disapproval (she bought her 7 year old a Nine!) to law (it is crime to allow children to read books above their age level. The Experts Know Best)....or children might have to start showing proof of age at the library....

And now I personally am filled with Doubt. Have I (shudder) read my own 7 books that are 8s, 9s, or even 10s? Yes. I think I have. That explains everything.

48 Hour Reading Challenge--my results

In conclusion: 2279 pages, 13 books read. Time spent blogging--negligible. Time spent reading--impossible to keep track of--my schedule was of the "reading while brushing teeth--2 minutes. Reading while kettle boiled 2.5 minutes" variety.

I'm a tad disappointed that I wasn't able to give myself to the challenge 100%--my sister and her two boys (4 and 3) are visiting, and what with my two boys, there was much screaming. But this year I chose my books much more wisely than last year, and enjoyed them much more.

THANKS MOTHER READER for organizing this! It was great fun!

My 48 Hours are up

Strangely, I didn't read all 71 (give or take) books in my to be read pile (I seriously doubt I'll ever read some of them). But I did read six more books in the 23 hours since my last update, and each of them was a pleasure (with one exception. Guess which).

Austenland, by Shannon Hale 194 pages

The Man without a Country by Edward Everett Hale. 66 pages. This fell off the shelf when I was pulling out Austenland, and I checked it out, thinking that perhaps I was Meant to read it. It is a patriotic screed written during the Civil War, propaganda for the Union side. Reading it did not make me feel much more patriotic. Possibly because I am from Virginia.

Terry's Best Term, by Evelyn Smith. 208 pages. Another pleasant school story.

Millicent Min, Girl Genius, by Lisa Yee. 248 pages. I was tickled to see that mine is not the only family that uses the term "reindeer games" to describe family fun.

Lush, by Natasha Friend 178 pages. A large part of this I read at a Monster Mini Golf Birthday Party to which my five year old was invited. We were both horrified by the loud noise and the crowds of people, had no interest in the golfing part, and ended up siting in a (relatively) quite corner for a while until it was polite to leave. Viz the book--although the "lush" of the title is the narrator's father, much is made of the fact that she is well endowed, breast wise, and I can't help wonder if Natasha Friend was consciously using lush in its other meaning to describe her as well, or if it's just a coincidence.

The Penderwicks on Gardam Street, by Jeanne Birdsall. 308 pages. How can one not like a book whose characters read and reference one's own favorite books?

25 hours into the 48 hour reading challenge

Five more books read, with great enjoyment

The Opposite of Invisible, by Liz Gallagher 151 pages Teen Romance; a good read

Don't Know Where, Don't Know When, by Annette Laing 206 pages WW I and WW II timeslip story--I'll be getting back to this one for a real review.

The Little Betty Wilkinson, by Evelyn Smith 224 pages. Evelyn Smith is one of my favorite mid 20th century writers of English girl's school stories; although this is not her best work, I still enjoyed it lots.

Joey Pigza Loses Control by Jack Gantos 196 pages. This was my first Joey Pigza book. Its frenetic energy matched my mood of reading frenzy.

Shooting the Moon by Frances O'Roark Dowell. 163 pages. A most excellent book- I wouldn't be surprised if it won, or at least was nominated for, Awards.

Now there's stuff I have to do outside before it gets too hot-- from the 60s yesterday to the nineties today. What's wrong with the 70s, I ask. Things could be better managed.

Turtle Island: Tales of the Algonquian Nations

48 Hour Reading Challenge Book Number 2:

Turtle Island: Tales of the Algonquian Nations by Jane Louise Curry, illustrated by James Watts. Work related. -Ish. But a co-worker did lend it do me. Jane Louise Curry tells a good story, and the stories in this book are good ones. But, in my opinion, she adds a European-ness to her telling that I found disconcerting. This is not in reference to specific post contact details (such as cows and buttons and bells)--Curry herself notes that these were in versions of stories told by Native story tellers. I don't think I'm enough of an expert to say anything much with any confidence about what makes a story Indian vs European, but I've read lots of stories closer to their original tellers, and these seem to have moved quite far from there. I do not think Jane Louise Curry actually talked to any Indian story tellers. And I find it annoying when authors say that certain tribes "vanished" and then base their own stories on stories told by members of those tribes (the particular example from this book being the vanished Mohegan, aka Mohecan).

THE ILLUSTRATIONS ARE AWFUL! Cartoonish caricatures.

Minutes spent blogging: 10

145pp

48 Hour Reading Challenge Book 1

I am taking part in Mother Reader's 48 Hour Reading Challenge, despite the usual job related work, house guests, children, large out door projects, etc etc. I started at 8:45am.

And I am pleased to have read one book so far-- The Mystery Hill Story, by Mark Feldman (1977). The Mystery Hill site is a collection of enigmatic rock features and structures in New Hampshire. Feldman thinks it was built by a bunch of Iberian Bronze Age Celts. I don't.

Minutes spent blogging: 5

pages read: 99

Eleven, by Patricia Reilly Giff

Eleven, by Patricia Reilly Giff (2008, 165 pages, for middle grade readers).

It’s a common thing to wonder if your family really is your family, but what happens when you find a newspaper clipping that says that you were once a missing child? A few days before his eleventh birthday, Sam finds such a clipping in an old metal box in the attic, with a picture of himself when he was three, missing, and with a different name. He begins to remember strange and disturbing things from long ago, and starts to worry that doesn't belong with Mack, his beloved grandfather. Is he meant to be with the horrible woman he dimly remembers, or safe with Mack and the two other friends who share their little complex of shops and apartments—Anima, who has an Indian restaurant, and Onji, who runs a deli? And why is he so afraid of the number 11?

But Sam can’t read, and can’t figure out more than a few words in the old newspaper article. For Sam, “…the lines moved like black spiders, stretching their legs and waving their feelers across the pages.” So the next day at school, he must find a reader. He decides on the new girl, Caroline, and fate seals their partnership when they are assigned to build a model castle together. They become friends—a friendship made anxious and intense by Caroline’s imminent move away to another town and yet another new school, and their need to solve they mystery and build the castle before she goes.

Sam’s family, Mack, Anima, and Onji, are one of the most lovingly written, deeply real examples of what makes a home a safe warm place for a child I can think of. Little things—Sam’s routine stop at Onji’s deli every morning for his lunch sandwich, and the gummi bears Onji hides in the sandwich on Sam’s birthday. Big things, like helping Sam with his reading, leading to one of the best examples of an adult reading out loud to a kid I’ve ever encountered. Here’s just one passage:

“Sam has to know the world,” Anima had said. “If he can’t read yet, one thing we can do while we try to help him is to give him the world of books.”

Mack had nodded.

And Onji: “How?”

“I’ll read aloud every night.” So when things quieted in the restaurant, Anima read to all of them for at least an hour. And what she read! Long poems, the Bible, stories about a kid who dug holes, about a spider who saved a pig. Anima’s accent made her sound like an English queen.

Sometimes they loved what she read, and sometimes they didn’t. She’d shrug, reading about copper mining or sea routes. Onji would fall asleep, his snores almost drowning her out. And sometimes Mack put his head back, his eyes closed. But Sam never slept.

And Mack, Sam’s grandfather, teaches him wood working, a bond and skill and intuitive knowledge they share, which Sam in turn shares with Caroline as they build their castle together and figure out what happened the night when three year old Sam was missing.

This great love and safety embodied in Sam’s family is thrown into question by the newspaper clipping. Sam is a great kid in a tremendously anxious situation, and I felt so bad for him I cried.* I think the mystery aspects of the plot—two kids following a trail of clues-- might take center stage for the younger reader, but for an adult reader like me, with boys of my own, it is the people and their love for each other that make this book outstanding.

Patricia Reilly Giff is the author of Lily’s Crossing, and Pictures of Hollis Woods, both of which I liked a lot. But this one I love. If anyone has knows any actual children who have read it, I’d be curious to know what they thought.

*I read it a second time yesterday, to refresh my memory, and sniffed all over again.

The Missing Piece Meets the Big O

A while ago, I blogged about Shel Silverstein's story, The Missing Piece, and my feelings of betrayal, anger, and disappointment when the Missing Piece was left high and dry by the selfish other shape. This other shape, a circle missing a triangle wedge, had offered to share life with a triangle who fit (the missing piece), so that the two of them could role quickly through the world together, but then ditched it, without a word of regret, to go on its own way. (My post about this, incidentally, is one of the most frequently read things I've written, and my opinion of the book is not universally shared--see the comment. Also, just as a helpful tip for those who google for them, there aren't any poems in it).

I feel much better now, because apparently Silverstein also felt a bit anxious about the missing piece, and wrote a sequel--The Missing Piece Meets the Big O (1981). The missing piece (mp) can't move on its own, because it's a triangle. It tries to find another shape with whom it fits, but to no avail. Then it meets the Big O, who is (surprise!) a big o. The Big O tells the mp to just go for it on its own, and slowly, as mp flips itself over and over, its angles wear down and it becomes a circle too! Hurray! Off it goes...

I actually do feel better about it all now, even though, in my usual cynical way, I am tempted to reject the moral on principle. But in all fairness, this promotion of self-reliance is a moral I can live with...

My life as an archaeologist

When I tell people I'm an archaeologist, a common reaction is, "That's so exciting!" Sometimes it is, mostly it isn't.

But now I have reached the pinnacle of career related fame and honor. The invitation came in the mail yesterday. I seem to have been the only person at work invited.

On June 20, I have the opportunity to be at A NEW U-HAUL TRUCK UNVEILING!

They are putting a picture of the Newport Tower on some U-hauls, and seem to feel that having an archaeologist at the unveiling party would be a nice touch. But I think I'll pass--I don't want to drive 35 miles each way for what is almost certain to be an anticlimax (there were no free snacks mentioned in the invitation).

This is the tower: It actually should look rather nice on a U-haul...

The New Books I Read in May

I find it hard to believe that I am still keeping track of new books I've read this year--I never made it past January before. So here's the list of all the books I read in May that I had never read before:

Magic or Madness and Magic Lessons, by Justine Larbalestier. How nice it is to start a series after it's been around for a while, and the author has had a chance to write a few more books. I'm saving the third book, Magic's Child, for Mother Reader's 48 Hour Reading Challenge (which I am not going to loose sleep over because I will not have much time to read, what with house guests and an archaeological excavation at a the site of Roger William's trading post that I foolishly said I would be happy to do in my copious free time).

The Dead and Gone, by Susan Beth Pfeffer. This of course is the sequel to Life as We Knew It. Reading LAWKI, I kept wanting to make survival suggestions to the characters; perhaps because the Dead and Gone takes place in NY city, or perhaps because Pfeffer's world building was more successful (her world destroying was very good indeed in both books), I had an easier time suspending my disbelief.

What the Moon Saw, by Laura Resau and Leap of Faith by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley. I read these two back to back, which made for an interesting combination. Both books required me to accompany their teenage narrators on journeys toward belief in things I don't believe in--in the first, Mayan spiritual beliefs, in the second, the tenants of Catholicism. But both writers were able to convince me that it was possible for the characters themselves to believe, which made for good reading.

A Curse Dark as Gold by Elizabeth Bunce. I had high hopes for this book, but it didn't do it for me...I sometimes have a hard time reding books where too much goes wrong (on a daily basis, as opposed to catastrophes).

Ways to Live Forever by Sally Nicholls. I read this one on Mother's Day, which maybe made things worse. I knew it would make me cry, but I'd heard it was a great book...It's a great book, and it made me cry. 11 year old boy with leukemia; right from the get go, we know that the doctors have given up and sent him home to die. Whah. But it's a great, loving, funny book, if you can see the words through your tears...

Clockwork Heart by Dru Pagliassotti. In my opinion, this suspense/fantasy is an excellent airplane book--keeps your attention the whole trip, but if it gets left in the seat pocket, you won't be crushed.

Other:
Carver by Ruth Yaffe Radin
Return to Harken House by Joan Aiken
Tisha: The Story of a Young Teacher in the Alaska Wilderness by Robert Specht and Anne Prudy

Edwin Arlington Robinson for Poetry Friday

It seems to me that there's not that much attention being paid to poems for the 8th grade type kid (perhaps there is, and I am just missing something, which wouldn't surprise me). So here's my suggestion for that age group--the poems of Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869-1935).

When I was twelve, my mother read me some of his poems, and, that being the eighties, I was, like, wow. Even thought the punches that Robinson packs may be obvious to the adult, I think that for a 12 year old, it's a pretty powerful moment when the point of one of his poems is realized. And because the messages aren't wrapped in a lot of metaphor and literary allusion, getting the point is fairly straightforward.

Here's one of my favorites:

Richard Cory

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace;
In fine we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

And perhaps as a reaction to my fascination with Dungeons and Dragons, my mother read me this one several times:

Miniver Cheevy

Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn,
Grew lean while he assailed the seasons
He wept that he was ever born,
And he had reasons.

Miniver loved the days of old
When swords were bright and steeds were prancing;
The vision of a warrior bold
Would send him dancing.

Miniver sighed for what was not,
And dreamed, and rested from his labors;
He dreamed of Thebes and Camelot,
And Priam's neighbors.

Miniver mourned the ripe renown
That made so many a name so fragrant;
He mourned Romance, now on the town,
And Art, a vagrant.

Miniver loved the Medici,
Albeit he had never seen one;
He would have sinned incessantly
Could he have been one.

Miniver cursed the commonplace
And eyed a khaki suit with loathing:
He missed the medieval grace
Of iron clothing.

Miniver scorned the gold he sought,
But sore annoyed was he without it;
Miniver thought, and thought, and thought,
And thought about it.

Miniver Cheevy, born too late,
Scratched his head and kept on thinking;
Miniver coughed, and called it fate,
And kept on drinking.

Oh well. I still think the Medici are rather romantic...

For more great poems, visit today's edition of Poetry Friday at Wild Rose Reader!

Looking for, and finding, lost books

I spend a lot of time wandering around the house looking for whatever book I happen to be reading, but I am almost always successful (fallen behind radiators is a good bet. Or the top of the toaster, that being one of the few surfaces in the kitchen that is always free of clutter. Except when it has a book on top of it).

But that is not the sort of lost book I have in mind at the moment--I'm thinking of those books read once long ago, that your parents left behind when you moved and you have never seen again. Here is a most excellent website that organizes all the places you might go on line to find those books, and I can't think of anything to add to it.

But if anyone ever read a book about a boy with (I think) a club foot (or perhaps some other issue related to walking), who lives on an island and bird watches (with some sort of bird related triumphant conclusion), that ends with the boy riding the bus to the school on the mainland, please let me know. It could be an English book, because it was left behind in the Bahamas when I was eleven, along with all my Enid Blytons (not that I hold a grudge). Whereas for some reason all the hardback Nancy Drews were lovingly packed, and I have no desire to ever read them again, and this summer my mother wants them out of her attic. I vote we sell them, but then wonder if someday I will have a granddaughter who will spend a fortune buying them all over again....Fortunately I have been able to replace the majority of the Enid Blytons at a reasonable cost.

The Cat on the Mat is Flat

After leaving the Navy's Autonomous Underwater Vehicle Fest (and a grand time it was) I wrested a living from the hostile earth (i.e. I planted my vegetables, which occupied much of the weekend), and then turned to the long neglected task of returning library books. Although it is true that I work very hard organizing book sales for the library, it is not a labor of love--I do it because I can't afford to pay the fines we rack up--sigh. I'm a bad patron.

Among the books that were overdue was this gem: The Cat on the Mat is Flat, by Andy Griffiths, illustrated by Terry Denton (9 chapters, 166 pages, Feiwel and Friends, 2006).
This book is a series of rhyming stories, illustrated with black and white cartoons. It is utterly perfect for the boy, aged 7-9, who is having a hard time with reading. It is not just that the stories are easy to read--if one wanted that, one could grab any number of books without a second thought. But almost all of them would look like baby books, whereas The Cat on the Mat is Flat looks like a Real Book that a Cool Boy might be carrying around. The front cover, with its scenes of cartoon violence, shows clearly that this is not a book for the very young and very sweet (although my boys often are; perhaps consistantly sweet is closer to what I mean).

Although the words are such as one might find in, say, an Usbourne book like Toad Makes a Road, the cartoons that accompany them and the slapsticky mayhem of the rhyming stories are very boy friendly (which is not, of course, to buy into gender stereotypes, but for whatever reason I truly believe that boys will find a cat being whacked with a baseball bat more amusing than girls will). For example:

Around and around and around the mat
the rat chased the cat with the baseball bat

until...

KERSPLAT!

Never again did that cat chase the rat--
the cat was much too flat for that.

If you, like me, want to see your 7 year old boy sitting reading by himself, try this book.

Andy Griffiths is the author of The Day My Butt Went Psycho, and other books for older kids.

Here are some other reactions to this book (and strangely they all seem to agree with my own opinion. Coincidence or conspiracy?) at BookBoy, at Pink Me, and atWhat You Want to Read.

(and incidentally, these are new blogs for me, and it felt rather adventurous to venture out into new territory. All three looked interesting, and I plan to go back, and explore them further. In my copious free time ha ha).

AUV Fest 08 drawing to a close...

I haven't been posting for these past days. Instead, I've been in Newport, wearing my Underwater Archaeologist hat, and having the socks knocked off me by the really cool autonomous underwater vehicles the Naval Research Center and NOAA have been testing. These robotic, free-swimming machines are, as a bonus to the tax payers, being tested on archaeological sites as well as looking for hidden underwater mines. To reiterate, they're really cool machines producing really cool information about our shipwrecks--it would probably make a good children's book (to drag this post on topic).

Anyway, today is media day, tomorrow is distinguished visitor day (which presents the same old fashion problem I've had for years--conveying out-doorsy Ocean Explorer while looking crisp and professional).

So I'll be back, d.v., posting about books on Friday.

In the meantime, here's the NOAA website that tells more about AUVFest 08.

The Meme of Five

Elaine at Wild Rose Reader has tagged me, so here goes...

1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read the player’s blog.
4. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

What were you doing five years ago?
I was on maternity leave with my week old baby...

What are five things on your to-do list for today (not in any particular order)?

Some of these have been done:
1. pack provisions for a two day stay in Newport, RI
2. find socks for children (tricky), make sure children put socks on (often I do it for them while they are still asleep. Faster, but perhaps it is traumatizing for them to be woken in the morning by someone grabbing their feet out from under the covers and they will have to spend lots of money on psychoanalysis?), get them to school
3. Take bus to Newport, walk to the Naval Underwater Warfare Center
4. Do a reasonably competent job analyzing the data from the autonomous underwater vehicles that are even now collecting more data in Narragansett Bay (note--the data isn't ready for me yet, which is why I am blogging and not analyzing. It has to be pretty processed by others before I can make any sense of it).
5. brush teeth

What are five snacks you enjoy?
1-5 Cookies

What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?
1. Buy houses for my two siblings and my husband's two siblings
2. Fund solar panels on libraries and schools throughout the country
3. Fund solar initiatives (like the non profit that provides solar stoves to women in Kenya)
4. Quit my job and open a children's bookstore
5. Buy new socks for the whole family!

What are five of your bad habits?
1. Not buying enough socks for my children
2. Not washing and sorting my children's socks in a timely fashion
3. Leaving things (books, cups, gardening implements, socks) where they are when I am done with them. I worry about my children in this regard, as my husband does this too, so we have breed for this.
4. Not returning library books promptly (the real reason I became president of the Friends of the Libary is related to this, but I don't want to come flat out and say it because I don't want to get anyone in trouble).
5. Procrastination

What are five places where you have lived?

Arlington VA, Portugal, the Bahamas, England, Rhode Island


What are five jobs you've had?
1. Babysitter
2. Housecleaner (ha ha this is ironic)
3. Archaeological field crew
4. Sales Clerk in map store
5. Archaeologist for state agency


I now tag:

Amanda at A Patchwork of Books
Els at Librarian Mom
Anne at Librarianne
and
Susan at Chicken Spaghetti
and a fifth slot for anyone else who hasn't done it already!

I'm off being an Ocean Explorer

I'm off this week dong high tech shipwreck exploration, courtesy of NOAA and the Navy, at AUVfest 08. AUV's are autonomous underwater vehicles--high tech free-swimming robotic machines. The Navy's interested in using them for detecting underwater mines; NOAA in using them to explore shipwrecks. This week and next the latest in AUV technology is being deployed off Newport, RI. And since I'm the state of Rhode Island's official underwater archaeologist, that's where I am, seeing pictures of my shipwrecks such as I've never seen before. So I won't be posting much this week...but if you click through the link, and go to the ocean explorers' gallery, you can see a picture of me, carefully chosen to suggest that I live a life of seafaring fun!

In a Blue Room-- Interview with Jim Averbeck

In a Blue Room, by Jim Averbeck, illustrated by Tricia Tusa (Harcourt, 2008)

This utterly charming picture book begins thus: "In a blue room Alice bounces, wide-awake past bedtime" and indeed, she is truly bouncing--in the second picture, when Mama comes in, all we see of Alice are her feet. "I can only sleep in a blue room," she says. (If you happen to be reading this out loud to a child, the child point out that Alice's room is yellow. Do not worry. All will be made clear). Alice's mother is an example to us all (making this a good one for a Mother's Day review). She does not say, "Oh for crying out loud get into bed." Instead, on each visit to Alice's room, she brings gifts to appeal to each sense, such as sweet smelling flowers and soothing tea. And as Alice drifts into sleep, her room is made blue by the light of the moon.

Simple, whimsical, sweet drawings well belanced with carfully chosen words make for a magical book. And one that leads nicely to light-turning out--"let's make your room blue too...."

I am pleased and proud to have interviewed Jim Averbeck last week:

Me: I know very little about how picture books are made. At what point in the process did you first see Tricia's illustrations? Were your words set in stone at that point, or were you able to make changes? If so, did you?

Jim: My editor, Sam McFerrin, and I had gone through two rounds of revision and sent the “final” product to Tricia. The first illustrations I saw were black and white sketches a few months later. I was thrilled with her interpretation. We did make some changes in the text at this point. They were very subtle, but helped the story and pictures work better together. Later, when I got the color proofs, we changed where the text was on certain pages- again very minor, subtle tweaks. Then at some point, I wanted to make one more tweak and Sam said, “Too late. It’s at the printers!” Most writers revise in their heads even after the book is out. We just can’t help it. Thank goodness the editor is there to stop the madness and get the thing on the bookshelf at some point.

Me: The five sense are all introduced in the book--sight obviously has to be last, so the room can be blue, but how did you decide on the order of the others?

Jim: I actually played with the order a lot. The first factor to influence it was logic. I thought it wouldn’t make sense for Mama to bring flowers in at the end. It would be too big of a disruption if Alice were already close to sleep. Same thing with the herbal tea, since it would require Alice to sip it. So, flowers came first, followed by tea.

Also, Mama says less and less as Alice drifts off. So when Alice objects to the flowers, Mama replies with three one-syllable words. When Alice objects to the tea: two. And so on until she says nothing at all. So I had to figure out which words felt the most soothing toward the end and followed this pattern, which affected the order of what Mama brings.

Me: (at least partly tongue in cheek). Did it ever occur to you that bringing a vase full of flowers into the room of a child bouncing vigorously on her bed might be a bad idea? Likewise a hot cup of tea. Unwise. And if all the children who fall in love with your book start demanding hot cups of tea in bed, with disastrous consequences, will you need insurance or is the publisher liable?

Jim: I blame my editor for this. You see, the lines about the flowers originally read:
“Time for bed,” Mama says, “and I’ve brought flowers in a heavily bottom-weighted, shatter-proof, magnetic vase for the metal table in your room.”
The editor rejected this as “too wordy.”
Likewise, the tea lines read:
Mama returns with a tumble-proof, “Mr Commuter®” mug of tea at a steamy, but safe, 104 degrees (Fahrenheit.)
Here my editor not only objected to the “wordiness” but also to what she called an “obvious commercial endorsement.”
Fortunately, the legal department has less rigorously literary standards than the editorial department. If you look at the inner side of the dust jacket, you will see clearly reproduced in 6-point, white typeface a disclaimer that indemnifies both myself and the publisher from any liability resulting from any “use or interpretation of the text or images in the book that falls outside included instructions” (also printed in white on the inner dust-jacket.

Me: Is there a question you've been dying to have asked, because you have the perfect answer all ready for it?

Jim: Q: We all know that picture book writers are grateful for their editors, illustrators, and publishing houses, but is there anyone else you’d like to thank.
A: Oh! I am so glad you asked. I’d like to give a shout out to Mrs. Skroki and Mrs. Meyer, teachers from sixth grade and high school (respectively) who got me interested in reading and art (also respectively.)
Also, John Schindel who taught me to write for children, and Julie Downing and Ashley Wolff, who taught me to illustrate for them.

Me: (referencing Jim's time in the Cameroon in the Peace Corps) Have you ever read Gerald Durrell's books about animal collecting in the Cameroon?

Jim: I haven’t. But I just requested one from the San Francisco Public Library. Looks fascinating. I have read a book called “Mango Elephants in the Sun” by Susana Herrera, who was a volunteer at the same time I was, and who wrote about her experiences in this book. She was the first person to read my first story and she gave me little exercises to improve it. (And we are all grateful she pointed me in the right direction.)

Me: I shall look for Mango Elephants!

Me again: What color is your room?

Jim: My current bedroom is “Bahaman Sea Blue” according to Benjamin Moore paint manufacturers. But I am in the process of moving; Mr. Moore tells me that my new room will be “Fairytale Blue.” How appropriate for a children’s book writer.

Me: Thanks so much! I really like your book lots. I have put it carefully away on a tall shelf, away from the grubby hands of my children, in case it goes on to win major awards.

Jim: Oh dear! You should buy a second copy for the children. (or as many as are required so each has his/her own. My accountant would like to encourage you to have a large family, if you don’t already.)

Me. Two children is plenty, thanks. But I do plan on buying a copy for my public library!

Here are other interviews with Jim, at The Well Read Child, at The Imaginary Blog, at Tales from Mount Rushmore, and at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast. I'm happy to add anyone I missed!

Westlin Winds

It's my tenth wedding anniversary today, so this poem by Robert Burns is in honor of my husband (even though the poem is not seasonally appropriate). One of the (many) nice things about my husband is that he came with a lot of great music, including a cd by the great Scottish singer, Dick Gaughan (Handful of Earth) that has a most lovely setting of this poem. When the words meet the music, it becomes one of the most beautiful songs I know (and makes me weep every time).

Westlin Winds

Now westlin winds and slaughtering guns
Bring autumn's pleasant weather
The moorcock springs on whirring wings
Among the blooming heather
Now waving grain, wild o'er the plain
Delights the weary farmer
And the moon shines bright as I rove at night
To muse upon my charmer

The partridge loves the fruitful fells
The plover loves the mountain
The woodcock haunts the lonely dells
The soaring hern the fountain
Through lofty groves the cushat roves
The path of man to shun it
The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush
The spreading thorn the linnet

Thus every kind their pleasure find
The savage and the tender
Some social join and leagues combine
Some solitary wander
Avaunt! Away! the cruel sway,
Tyrannic man's dominion
The sportsman's joy, the murdering cry
The fluttering, gory pinion

But Peggy dear the evening's clear
Thick flies the skimming swallow
The sky is blue, the fields in view
All fading green and yellow
Come let us stray our gladsome way
And view the charms of nature
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn
And every happy creature

We'll gently walk and sweetly talk
Till the silent moon shines clearly
I'll grasp thy waist and, fondly pressed,
Swear how I love thee dearly
Not vernal showers to budding flowers
Not autumn to the farmer
So dear can be as thou to me
My fair, my lovely charmer.

There's a bit of the song at Dick Gaughan's website--the music really does make it much more so.

The Poetry Friday roundup is here at Writer2be today!

Teenagers reading-

"It's now cool for teenagers to read"

Here's the link to a rather cheering story from today's Providence Journal, about a book club formed last year at Hope High School. Hope is an urban, largely minority school that was in such a bad way a few years ago that the state intervened. It's better now, thanks in large part to dedicated teachers like those who founded the book club-- Jodi Timpani and Laura Almagno.

Rather annoyingly, the article only mentions two specific books the club members have read--Bento Box in the Heartland: My Japanese Girlhood in Whitebread America (Linda Furiya) and Wicked.

Updated:

Here's what the Hope teenagers have read so far:

The Memory of Running
My Sister's Keeper
19 minutes
Change of Heart
The Pact
World War Z
Water for Elephants

I have read none of them...always there are more books landing on the to be read pile!!:)

Jock Meets Nessie, also spelling, writing on computers and becoming a reader

My 7 year old son asked me to post here a story he wrote for school (see below). He wrote a short, laborious, and unreadable first draft by hand--unreadable not because his handwriting is so bad, but because his spelling so often does not result in recognizable words. Then he re-wrote it on the computer (with a bit of typing help from me), and did the spell checking himself. The result is something that he can read back to himself, which I assume gives him confidence that he is a reader as well as a writer, and is thus a Good Thing. Gratifying, but I wonder if, like his Mama (who can't even blame computers), he will ever learn to spell on his own.

Having gotten this self-consciously trying to make my kid's story relevant to a larger readership interested in children's literacy section out of the way,

here is

JOCK MEETS NESSIE

Once there was a man named Jock (he was Scottish). He went to Loch Ness to fish. But he wanted to see Nessie because when he was a little boy he'd found a magical compass on the bank of Loch Ness. Engraved in old English runes were the words “Give this to Nessie!” He had kept it all the years since, hoping to give it to Nessie. “I would love to see her,” whispered Jock to himself. He thought that Nessie was a plesiosaur.

It was early in the morning. Jock ran down the slope to the dock. He got to his boat and untied it. He started to row into the lake. Looking around and enjoying the sweet summer air, he spied bubbles rising in a ring. Jock decided to go to the ring of bubbles.

Jock got to the bubbling water and leaned over the side of his boat to see if Nessie was there. He saw Nessie’s head, but he thought it was a fish. “It isn’t Nessie, but it looks like a big fish!” Jock prepared his line and tossed it in. Nessie bit the bait and tugged hard. Jock suddenly realized that it wasn’t a fish! He screamed out, “If you’re Nessie, show yourself!”

Nessie rose out of the water. She looked like a plesiosaur alright! She snorted and swam around Jock and his boat. Jock felt so happy that he could give Nessie the compass. He tossed it over the side of the boat and Nessie caught it her jaws. He was relieved because finally he had seen Nessie and given her the compass.

Nessie dove down and put the compass inside a secret cave. Then she came back up to the surface and snorted twice and dove back down. She came up again with two fish in her mouth. She tossed them into Jock’s boat.

Jock wondered if she would use the compass find her way back to the ocean. Nessie had not left Jock and his boat. Then the strangest thing happened. Nessie started to speak. “Thank you, Jock,” said Nessie. “ It was very kind of you to give that to me. Now I have done my thanks, so I will return to my ocean home. I’ve been a prisoner in Loch Ness for all these years, and I’m so glad you gave me that compass so I can be free.”

She disappeared back under the water, and a piece of paper floated up from below. Jock took his net and fished it out of the water. It said, “We’ll have other adventures.” And it was signed, Nessie.

The End.

Books I read in April

I broke no records for new books read in April--for much of the month I was poorly and my husband was off playing Irish music in Japan, so I did a lot of comfort re-reading. But here are the new to me books I read:

Persepolis by Marjane Satrape I have now painlessly acquired a much clearer understand of 20th century Iranian history.

Best Foot Forward by Joan Bauer (my review)

Skin Hunger by Kathleen Duey (my review, which is really more a whine)

Eleven by Patricia Reily Giff (review pending)

Project Mulberry by Linda Sue Park (my review)

Captain Peggy Angela Brazil, picked up for $2 in a used book store. Angela Brazil is one of the Big Names of the early 20th century girl's boarding school genre, and although I wouldn't spend much more than $2 on one of her books, it was quite a good read. I won't spoil it for you, but Peggy's quick thinking when she saved the bus load of school girls at the end was truly admirable!

Winterbound by Margery Bianco A very happy find at the same book store. I learned of this book here, at the blog Collecting Children's Books, and although it didn't really do it for Peter, I thought it was great! But then, I am a huge sucker for books where girls have to make a home for younger siblings under difficult circumstances, particularly out in the country. If any fan of Gwendoline Courtney* should read this (unlikely), you will definitely like this book.

Emergence: Labeled Autistic by Temple Grandin and Margaret M. Sceriano Fascinating.


*Gwendoline Courtney was a mid 20th century English writer of books for girls--several of her stories (Sally's Family, The Farm on the Downs, The Girls of Friar's Rise) are about families in relatively isolated, difficult circumstances...I particularly recommend Sally's Family (which I shall someday review in full...d.v.)

Good Enough, by Paula Yoo

Good Enough, by Paula Yoo (2008, Harper Teen) is imperfectly titled. It is much more than good enough; in fact, it is very good indeed.

It tells of Patti, a high school student whose Korean parents expect nothing less than the best from her--anything less, no matter how good, isn't enough, and might keep her from HARVARDYALEPRINCTON. Patti and the kids in her Korean American youth group want to make their parents happy, but sometimes it's all a bit much. And sometimes, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, even if it means ditching Youth Group to run off to a Night Club (shock horror) with a Boy (greater horror)...

But before Patti gets to this point, she practices violin, takes practice SAT tests compulsively, starts to believe the Boy maybe likes her, and shares very funny tips on how to make your Korean American parents happy.

Maybe this doesn't sound like the stuff of which a great read is made, but Patti is so likeable and believable that it works. There aren't any great conflicts here, or great triumphs or failures. Instead, there's a funny and compassionate take on how to balance being true to yourself (and finding out who "yourself" is) with loving your parents and understanding their point of view.

Here's a great interview with Paula Yoo over at the Ya Ya Yas. And here's Paula's own website. Then check out this great project, Fusion Stories, that's promoting 10 new books for young readers about Asian Americans that "aren’t traditional tales set in Asia nor stories about coming to America for the first time."

ps: my only gripe with this book is that Bryn Mawr, my college, shares the number 12space with Smith, Mount Holyoke, and Wellesley on the Korean Parents list of preferred colleges, with the following note: "This is only for pretty girls like Tiffany Chung, whose parents will feel better if she attends an all-female Seven Sisters college because dating is wrong and evil." I realize that this is the opinion of the Korean Parents, but hmph to that :) !

For Poetry Friday --- What's Left

What’s Left
(for Peter Hennessy)

I used to wait for the flowers,

my pleasure reposed on them.

Now I like plants before they get to the blossom.

Leafy ones - foxgloves, comfrey, delphiniums -

fleshy tiers of strong leaves pushing up

into air grown daily lighter and more sheened

with bright dust like the eyeshadow

that tall young woman in the bookshop wears,

its shimmer and crumble on her white lids.

The washing sways on the line, the sparrows pull

at the heaps of drying weeds that I’ve left around.

Perhaps this is middle age. Untidy, unfinished,

knowing there’ll never be time now to finish,

liking the plants - their strong lives -

not caring about flowers, sitting in weeds

to write things down, look at things,

watching the sway of shirts on the line,

the cloth filtering light.

I know more or less

how to live through my life now.

But I want to know how to live what’s left

with my eyes open and my hands open;

I want to stand at the door in the rain

listening, sniffing, gaping.

Fearful and joyous,

like an idiot before God.

Kerry Hardiein, from Being Alive, ed Neil Astley, Bloodaxe Books 2004

I think this poem will have more meaning for me in a few more years (I don't feel middle aged just yet, and I am not quite ready to be unmoved by the blooming delphiniums) but much of it resonates for me even now. Especially the heaps of weeds lying around! :).

As a critical note--I don't think the woman in the bookstore adds one single thing to the poem. Agree? Disagree?

The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Big A little a today!

Rabbit and Squirrel: A Tale of War and Peas

So I am watching my peas grow (go peas!) and thought that it would be a nice time to take a look at a pea related book that arrived recently--Rabbit and Squirrel: A Tale of War and Peas, by Kara LaReau and Scott Magoon (2008, Harcourt).

Um, this isn't a happy gardening book for kids. This is Picture Book Noir, one I think snarky adults will appreciate lots and lots more! The Rabbit and the Squirrel are scary looking, the colors somber, and the plot fearsome and rather pessimistic.

It's not my cup of tea, but here are two other reviews, from Three Silly Chicks and Fuse #8, who liked it lots. I guess I'm just so anxious about my precious baby garden right now that I have no vegetable sense of humor at the moment. Probably in September, when I am sick of the whole wretched thing and tomatoes are dripping down around me and the crabgrass has won (again), I will appreciate it more.