I made a list of Middle Grade Speculative Fiction books coming out this spring for Middle Grade March

Over at Middle Grade March you can find a lovely long list I made of MG speculative fiction books coming out this spring!  I'm sure I missed many great books, so do feel free to add them in the comments.

A few that I am personally making puppy-eyes about, that I hadn't heard about before starting my compilation efforts:

 The Forbidden Library, by Django Wexler (Kathy Dawson Books, April 15)
"Alice always thought fairy tales had happy endings. That--along with everything else--changed the day she met her first fairy When Alice's father goes down in a shipwreck, she is sent to live with her uncle Geryon--an uncle she's never heard of and knows nothing about. He lives in an enormous manor with a massive library that is off-limits to Alice. But then she meets a talking cat. And even for a rule-follower, when a talking cat sneaks you into a forbidden library and introduces you to an arrogant boy who dares you to open a book, it's hard to resist. Especially if you're a reader to begin with. Soon Alice finds herself INSIDE the book, and the only way out is to defeat the creature imprisoned within.

It seems her uncle is more than he says he is. But then so is Alice."

The Glass Sentence, by S.E. Grove (Viking Juvenile, June 12)
"She has only seen the world through maps. She had no idea they were so dangerous.

Boston, 1891. Sophia Tims comes from a family of explorers and cartologers who, for generations, have been traveling and mapping the New World—a world changed by the Great Disruption of 1799, when all the continents were flung into different time periods.  Eight years ago, her parents left her with her uncle Shadrack, the foremost cartologer in Boston, and went on an urgent mission. They never returned. Life with her brilliant, absent-minded, adored uncle has taught Sophia to take care of herself.

Then Shadrack is kidnapped. And Sophia, who has rarely been outside of Boston, is the only one who can search for him. Together with Theo, a refugee from the West, she travels over rough terrain and uncharted ocean, encounters pirates and traders, and relies on a combination of Shadrack’s maps, common sense, and her own slantwise powers of observation. But even as Sophia and Theo try to save Shadrack’s life, they are in danger of losing their own.

Lost Children of the Far Islands, by Emily Raabe (Knopf, April 8)
"Twins Gus and Leo and their little sister, Ila, live a quiet life in Maine—until their mother falls ill, and it becomes clear her strength is fading because she is protecting them from a terrible evil.
Soon the children are swept off to a secret island far in the sea, where they discover a hidden grandmother and powers they never knew they had. Like their mother, they are Folk, creatures who can turn between human and animal forms.
Now they must harness their newfound magic for a deeper purpose. The ancient, monstrous King of the Black Lakes will stop at nothing to rise to power, and they are all that stands in his way. Their mother’s life hangs in the balance, and the children must battle this beast to the death—despite a dire prophecy that whoever kills him will die.
Can Gus, Leo, and Ila overcome this villain? Or has he grown too strong to be defeated? Lost Children of the Far Islands is a story filled with magic, excitement, and the dangers and delights of the sea."

Saving Lucas Biggs, by Marisa de los Santos (HarperCollins, April 29)
"Thirteen-year-old Margaret knows her father is innocent, but that doesn't stop the cruel Judge Biggs from sentencing him to death. Margaret is determined to save her dad, even if it means using her family's secret—and forbidden—ability to time travel. With the help of her best friend, Charlie, and his grandpa Josh, Margaret goes back to a time when Judge Biggs was a young boy and tries to prevent the chain of events that transformed him into a corrupt, jaded man. But with the forces of history working against her, will Margaret be able to change the past? Or will she be pushed back to a present in which her father is still doomed?
Told in alternating voices between Margaret and Josh, this heartwarming story shows that sometimes the forces of good need a little extra help to triumph over the forces of evil."

Why I'm not going to finish The Finisher, by David Baldacci

I tried.  I really did, to read The Finisher, by David Baldacci (Scholastic, 2014, upper MG/YA).   But I can't go on--119 pages was plenty, and I just could not press on toward page 497. 

Here's what didn't work for me; of course, your mileage may vary and this is all just Personal Opinion.

The World Building.   The story takes placed in an isolated community ringed by a wilderness full of scary monsters, who seem, for the most part, to stay in their wilderness (there are exceptions, like the two that mysteriously show up in the factory at night, or possibly they lived in the factory and only came out at night?  But then whose job was it to shut them in?  But if they came from the wilderness,  why didn't they monstrously rampage en passnat as they made their way to the factory?  or perhaps they appeared and disappeared magically.  If any of you all have in fact read the book to the end, let me know).   

But in any event, if you are offering me a fictional closed community, I want to rest assured that you have have thought out all the logistical implications of education, family structure, supply and demand, and how big your community is. Is inbreeding a problem?  what are the sources of raw materials?  that sort of thing.   If you offer me a priest-equivalent, I want some assurance that you have thought about just who the gods (or whatevers) are, and if you call your community Wormwood, I'm wondering if that's a reference to the Book of Revelations (waters turning bitter, and people dying thereby), because nothing should be just chance in creating a world such as this, but though here are lots of bits of Strange Things all thrown in the pot together, there is nothing as thematically coherent as this as of Page 119.

 I do not think that saying "canine" instead of "dog," and other such substitutions, actually in and off itself makes a world beautifully fantastical, even if you tell me point blank that the horse-equivalents once had wings.    Having the women referred to as "females," as in "his female," doesn't go all that far to convincing me you are constructing a rich and deeply textured fictional society.   And just a minor point--calling your beautiful anti-heroine of great power Morrigone makes me think you haven't read enough King Arthur stories, or Celtic-inspired fantasies, because otherwise you'd have realized that this name has baggage.

But above all  I couldn't stand that the people are called Wugs.  I was not sure they were human for quite some time (and there are still lingering doubts)--I was picturing greenish simians that looked a bit like carpets.

The Writing.   Now, maybe some of the infelicities of tense awkwardness were caught and changed.  But sometimes the writing is short sentences.  That go like this.  And sometimes there's more verbosity in describing things than necessary, and sometimes the Wug female who is the heroine, Vega Jane, uses kind of contemporary slang, and sometimes less so, and to put it in a nutshell, I was burning through a lot of post-it notes.  Once I start noticing that someone's writing isn't working for me, I just start noticing more and more things that kick me out of the story.

The Difficulties of Suspending Disbelief.  There were lots of moments when this just wasn't possible.

Example 1 (fairly minor point):  Vega Jane, in her tree top retreat, draws a map on herself.   Problem 1:  where did she get the pen? This is not the sort of place where Wugs of the lower sort have lots of pens on hand (I think).  Problem 2:  I have written things on myself with Sharpies, and there has been no trace of them  within a few hours, no water applied.  Problem 3:  She's able to read the map, and books she encounters, because she is literate--why are lower order Wugs being educated?  It doesn't make sense. (See World Building, above).

Example 2 (much more major):  I am actually just fine with a main character suddenly and with no explanation being washed out of a building down a secret tunnel thing in a river of blood and being saved by a magical chain, and then the blood becoming imaginary or something.  These things happen. 

But I expect the main character to wonder a bit about the whole ensemble.  Though porcelain toilets are nifty when you've never seen one before, are the hygiene standards of the wealthy really enough to make you not wonder about a river of blood (the Book of Revelations again?) that almost drowned you before disappearing just a few pages ago?  The chain she does think about (because with its help she can fly!), but as of page 119, it was as if the blood never happened and we've moved on to the threat of attack from potentially invasive outlaws (who didn't get eaten by monsters), with concomitant Rabble Rousing and community wall-building etc.  As well as Vega Jane's visit to the house with the nice bathroom. 

Basically, I did not feel the plot and the characterization were meeting my needs as a reader.

Final thought: 

Writing a good middle grade or young adult fantasy is not easy.  The ability to write best-selling adult thrillers doesn't mean you'll be able to pull it off successfully.  

But of course I did not finish the book, and maybe it would have all made beautifully coherent sense at the end, and so feel free to disagree with me  utterly and completely.

Here is the Kirkus Review.

disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher.

Bad Norse god and goddess puns

I have been blessed with the ability to make bad puns, and when you have such a gift, it should be shared.  My bad Greek god and goddess puns have proved popular, and so today I offer bad Norse god and goddess puns.   This is quite challenging, much harder than with the Greeks, but I've bravely done my best, although I realize, after having posted this, that I don't actually have any good ones for any of the goddesses.  Sorry. 

Scroll over the blanks to see the answers...

There's the obvious:

Which Norse god had less hair than you?  Baldur.

Which Norse god shows up on a crying baby's face?  Tyr.

And of course one can do unraveling puns with Frey and Freya.

But here are the two that I'm actually rather pleased with:

Why is the Norse god of thunder the best hitchhiker of all?  Because nothing sticks out like a Thor thumb.

Which Norse god is the most relaxed?  Loki (Low Key).

I do not, however, think I will ever get a good, quality, pun for Odin. 

Hilda and the Troll, by Luke Pearson

Hilda and the Troll, by Luke Pearson, is a hardcover reprint from Flying Eye Books (Sept. 2013) of the first graphic novel about an adventurous Scandinavian girl named Hilda (originally titled Hildafolk).  Hilda lives up in the mountains, with all sorts of magical persons for neighbors.  This particular installment of her adventures (there are two others--Hilda and the Midnight Giant, and Hilda and the Bird Parade) is my favorite, quite possibly because it has the thinnest plot of the three, and one can enjoy the magical world free of any particular anxiety as to outcome!

Hilda and her blue, horned, fox friend (so adorable!) are having a peaceful time of it--sleeping out in a tent when it rains (so as to appreciate the snugness of it more), exploring the hills and sketching interesting things.  But then Hilda comes across a troll rock--will it come alive at night and come down the hill, with ravenous intent?  So she hangs a bell on its long stone nose, to give warning.   And then falls asleep at its feet, and is woken much later by the bell as the troll starts to move!  Dark  is falling fast...can she make it home through the snowfall?

It all works out in a very satisfying way, and though I liked the other two Hilda books just fine, I loved this one.

Like I said, this is the lightest of the series in terms of plot, and in terms of illustration too--literally, as there is more color and more daylight and warm interior firelight!  It's also the most amusing and most charming.  I loved the map-reading giant, the wood person who keeps coming to Hilda's house, and all the interior details of Hilda's house that we get to see.  I am also biased in favor of characters who have meaningful hobbies, so I loved to see independent observer of the world Hilda set off with her sketchbook. 

Hilda and the Troll is the best book in which to meet Hilda, though it is the most recent hardcover of the three.   Seven year olds (or even kids a bit younger) and kids on up as far as you want to go should enjoy it very much indeed.

Why it's a good time to buy a paperback of Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains, by Laurel Snyder

Way back in January of 2010, I reviewed Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains, by Laurel Snyder. 

Here's what I said back then, which you can skim; I've highlighted where The Important Part begins.

If you are looking for a nice (in all the good meanings of that word) fantasy adventure type book to give to an 8 or 9 year old kid, Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains, by Laurel Snyder (2008, but just reprinted as a Yearling Paperback) is one I'd recommend. It is a lovely quest fantasy for the beginners, with little Darkness but lots of fun.

Lucy, a milkmaid, and Wynston, a prince, are best friends. But suddenly one day Wynston's life as a prince interferes with their friendship, and Lucy takes off in a huff (accompanied by a young cow named Rosebud--one of those things that just sometimes happens). She's going to climb the Scratchy Mountains, and find her mother. No-one has actually come out and said she's dead, after all.

But what she finds up in the mountains isn't all fun and games...her path leads to the village of Torrent, a strange dystopia whose strict rules may mean the end of the small wild animal Lucy befriended on her journey. So even though Lucy is as tough a young heroine as they come, it's a good thing Wynston has taken off after her. Two friends working together can do things that one person can't...and adventures are much more friendly with two!

Snyder tells her deceptively simple story with verve and zest. Sprinkled with amusing tidbits, the action swings along swingingly. It is a book that a moderately confident reader could read to themselves, and it also is a great book to read out loud, to boys or girls (tip on reading out loud to your boys-- if you make sure you are holding the book you want to read face down as you approach them, they might not notice covers that look like girl books).

But I think it is more than just a good story, well-told. In a non-preachy way, and almost as an aside, it has messages of the sort I, for one, want my children to internalize. Things like "don't judge people by their status in society," "Question idiotic laws and governments that think themselves perfect," "Have the courage to go off and look for things that are important to you." Things that I want my kids to do (as long as they don't take the cow up the mountain with them).

Now The Important Part

Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains has just gone out of print in hardback. And rather than see the book pulped, Laurel has bought all the 800 copies that were left, and given them away so that kids who might not have enough books of their own to love will now have one.  And she did this at her own expense--read all about it here.

The book is still available new in paperback....and would make a nice addition to any library....

Since I already have a copy, I won't be buying one right now myself, but I am pretty sure that my next bookstore trip will involve buying Laurel's new book, Seven Stories Up, just by way of thanking her for her generosity (and helping, somewhat obliquely, to pay for what she's done!), and of course since I want to read it, it will be nice for me too!

The Mysterious Manuscript, by Lars Jakobsen-- a graphic novel for Timeslip Tuesday

The Mysterious Manuscript, by Lars Jakobsen (Graphic Universe 2012), is Book 1 of Mortensen's Escapades, a graphic novel series for older middle-grade readers.  Mortensen is a young (early twenties type young) time traveler from Denmark, one of a group of secret agents trying to keep history in order, and keep important artifacts in the time in which they belong (this is explained in an one page introduction). 

When we meet Mortensen, he is on his way to an assignation with an antiquarian bookseller, who has found a book that should not exist--no book from 16th-century Scotland should include a picture of a bi-plane.  So Mortensen time-travels off to Scotland to try to destroy the book....

And ends up crashing around a castle, being thrown in jail, loosing his time travel device, being rescued by a mysterious ally, and taken to the home of a mute young woman (named Blossom, which I am dubious about) who turns out to have been the one who found the plane.  It becomes clear that the book with the plane picture is not all that's going to have to be "fixed"-- for one thing, the young woman is now in danger of being burnt as a witch thanks to Mortensen's arrival in her time.

It was an interesting story, plot-wise, and time-travel-wise as well, but I found the action to be just too quick.  The characters never had a chance to breath, and the story never had the chance to expand into something truly engrossing. I am left utterly confused about many plot points.  It really does not help that the young woman who helps Mortensen and who seems to be the only person who actually knows what's going on can't talk.

So though I almost liked the premise, and the art style was just fine (except for Blossom's fire-engine red lipstick), it didn't quite click for me.  My handy 13 year old graphic novel fan had the same feeling (but didn't notice Blossom's lipstick).

Rose and the Magician's Mask, by Holly Webb

I am currently in the middle of four books I am not enjoying--I have started to question too much, to talk back snippily to the words on the page, and once that happens, all escapism is lost. Happily, there was a fifth book in active play--Rose and the Magician's Mask, by Holly Webb-- which was much nicer to read.  My questions were all internal to the story, of a wondering, speculative kind, and I never once was kicked out of the narrative by infelicities.

Rose and the Magician's Mask is the third book about Rose, an orphan girl with magical powers in an alternate 19th-century England. The first, Rose, was published here in the US in 2013 (and was shortlisted for the Cybils), the second, Rose and the Lost Princess, comes out here this April. Some of us couldn't wait, and me and my boys went and ordered all four Rose books and the first book in the spin-off series about Lily from the UK.

In any event, in Rose and the Magician's Mask, a powerful mask is stolen by a magic-wielding antagonist, and taken off to Venice...a city steeped in magic.  And Rose and her cohert, including Gus the cat, set off to find the mask and thwart the antagonist.   It is a lovely magical Venice, full of creepiness and mysetery.  And though I would have liked slightly more forward progress with Rose's magical education, and slightly brisker character development (both are happening, but not very fast!) it was, all in all, satisfying.

If you have an eight to ten year old reader of fantasy around, do try Rose (and its sequels, as they come out) on him or her.  The US covers are happily more gender neutral than the very girl oriented UK ones; none of the kids in my ten year old's class batted an eyelash at the cover of Rose, but apparently some boys asked my son why he was reading this one (not that he cared).  

This week's round-up of Middle Grade Fantasy and Science Fiction from around the blogs

Another week, another round-up!  Let me know if I missed your post.

The Reviews:

Canary in a Coal Mine, by Madelyn Rosenberg, at The Book Monsters


The Cats of Tanglewood Forest, by Charles de Lint, at Jean Little Library

Charmed Life, and Conrad's Fate, by Diana Wynne Jones, at Tales of the Marvelous

The Copernicus Files: The Forbidden Stone, by Tony Abbot, at Boys Rule Boys Read!

Fireborn, by Toby Forward, at Batch of Books

Flora and Ulysses, by Kate DiCamillo, at Great Books for Kids and Teens

Found, by Margaret Peterson Haddix, at Time Travel Times Two

Grave Images, by Jenny Goebel, at Charlotte's Library

The Impossible Boy, by Mark Griffiths, at Wondrous Reads

Keeper of the Lost Cities, books 1 and 2, by Shannon Messenger, at Jen Robinson's Book Page

The Land of Stories, by Chris Colfer, at ACReads

Magic Marks the Spot, by Caroline Carlson, at GreenBeanTeenQueen

Nightingale's Nest, by Nikki Loftin, at Fuse #8, The Book Smugglers, Nerdy Book Club, and Charlotte's Library

Oksa Pollock Book 1: The Lost Hope, and Book 2: The Forest of Souls, by Anne Pliochota, at Nayu's Reading Corner

The Rithmatist, by Brandon Sanderson, at The Book Monsters

The Riverman, by Aaron Starmer, at Great Imaginations

The Ruins of Gorlan, by John Flanagan, at Guys Lit Wire

The Rule of Thre3, by Eric Walters, at Ms. Yingling Reads

The School For Good and Evil, by Soman Chainani, at Great Imaginations

The Shadow Throne, by Jennifer Nielsen, at The Haunting of Orchid Forsythia, The Hopeful Heroine, The Geek Girl Project, and Kid Lit Geek

A Snicker of Magic, by Natalie Lloyd, at Paper Breathers, Mother.Gamer.Writer. and The Hiding Spot

Space Rocks, by Tom O'Donnell, at Ms. Yingling Reads

Switched at Birthday, by Natalie Standiford, at Ms. Yingling Reads

Texting the Underworld, by Ellen Booraem, at alibrarymama

The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp, by Kathi Appelt, at Reads for Keeps (audio book review)

Watermusic, by Sarah Sargent, at Charlotte's Library

Zoe and Zack and the Yogi's Curse, by Lars Guignard, at Mad Steam

Zombie Baseball Beatdown, by Paulo Bacigalupi, at Guys Lit Wire


Authors and Interviews

Peggy Eddleman (Sky Jumpers) at Cynsations

Robert Gray (The Nightmare Series) character interview and giveaway at Word Spelunking

Claire Legrand (The Year of Shadows) writes about "the importance of the unlikable heroine."

Nikki Loftin (Nightingale's Nest) at Charlotte's Library


Other Good Stuff

R.J. Anderson on Middle Grade Romance at GreenBeanTeenQueen

Diversity links from Feb. 2014 at Diversity in YA

Sherry at Semicolon has shared 30 bits of wisdom and advice from mostly Cybils book sources

Middle Grade March Madness has started at Word Spelunking. where you can find the full schedule of interviews and reviews

And it's Middle Grade March at the Middle Grade March website too!

At Random Musings of a Bibliophile there's a nice graphic of the line-up for a March Madness YAMG Book Battle; lots of books I love here!

If you want to cast your vote for best MG YA vote in what is essentially a trial run for a MG YA Hugo Award, you can do so here at  Detcon 1 2014.

And finally, I was reading up on the Crimean War so that I could explain to my boys what was happening in Ukraine...and was happily diverted by this charming story of Timothy the Tortoise, a naval mascot in the 19th century who lived until 2004.    The tag attached to her (she's a she) reads: "My name is Timothy. I am very old - please do not pick me up"

Watermusic, by Sarah Sargent

Watermusic, by Sarah Sargent (1986, back when a book could have as few as 120 pages), is the second book I finished for today's middle grade readathon.   It came home with me from the library discards I was sorting for the booksale.   It is the sort of book that just goes to show that the 1980s were a strange time and it is not my fault I turned out the way I did.  I am breaking my thoughts on this book into very short paragraphs for clarity's sake.

Our heroine, Laura, is a a mopey/day dreamy 13 year old flute player with no close friends and a neurotic/sensitively perceptive sense that there is more to life than meets the eye.

Laura's mother has a job, but keeps her house spotless.  She is proud of her synthetic wall to wall carpet, her distressed coffee table that came with scratches already in place.  She is quick to wield the "Gleam and Go" and the bug spray at the first sign of trouble (Hint: Laura's mother is a metaphor for "modern humanity distanced from nature).

The batty anthropologist who doesn't keep the shrubs outside her Victorian house pruned hires Laura to help unpack ethnographic collections from the mountains of Peru.  She choose Laura because of Laura's sensitivity; she herself is all about sensitivity to higher thought etc.

Except that she is NOT SENSITIVE to the fact that people living in the mountains of Peru might want to keep their ancestral sacred artifacts.   Good anthropologists don't excavate their own tunnels into secret shrines to steal people's sacred giant bats that are sleeping in suspended animation and that are really seraphs (beings of pure thought, who fly singing purely through the sky when not in suspended animation in caves, or being stolen by anthropologists).  Wanting to take the bat/seraph home to the US and have fun with pure thought does not, strangely, seem to me like a good enough reason to dig tunnels and pillage sacred places.

But Laura doesn't grasp this, and plays along (literally, on the sacred flute also pinched from the bat/seraph cave), and the bat/seraph wakes up, and it and the anthropologist go off to the realm of pure thought or something which involves flying together over the Andes.

Leaving Laura to deal with the Antithesis of Pure Thought--the swamp thing/monster that the flute music has summoned up out of the drain!!!!!

Happily it turns out the swamp thing is actually the Mermaid of Fecundity and Love and giving it fruit and a knife sends it home again.

There is more to the book, but not much more (an Indian doctor, for instance, gets to add a touch of Eastern Wisdom).

In case you ever want to write a high school essay on this book, I will help:  Laura's mother and the anthropologist are both, in different ways, making bad choices by distancing themselves from the world of insects and over-ripe cantaloupe (which is what the swamp mermaid smells like).  One can assume that the writer thinks the eighties are/were bad and we are/were killing too many insects with our household toxins, but also thinks that pure thought, devoid of emotion, is bad and we must embrace as well the Mermaid of Fecundity or something.  Which I agree with, but gee, this is a weird book.

I turn now to see what reviews in the 1980s though of it: 

Publisher's weekly:  "a strange but gentle metaphysical story of a young girl's discovery of the different planes of human existence.....Deep and haunting, this story can be enjoyed both for its fine fantasy and its delicate symbolism." 

If that review thinks the symbolism is delicate, I shudder to think what overt would look like.

School Library Journal:  "As one of the characters comments, "This has to be one of the most amazing things I've ever heard of." Sargent's slender novel almost defies description, but it is so beautifully written that it's worth making a little extra effort to suspend disbelief....Watermusic is recommended for private enjoyment and reading aloud with thoughtful young teens."

I do not think I would want to try reading it aloud to even the most thoughtful of teens today.  I think you would loose them at giant bat/seraph.

Note on cover:  I showed it to my 13 year old son, and asked if he could imagine the girl showing up at his school.  I got a loud No in response.....but the hairstyle sure is accurate.  I have the pictures to prove it.  Sigh.

Grave Images, by Jenny Goebel

Today I'm taking part in the readathon that's kicking off this year's Middle Grade March, and finally, after months of book guilt, I have finished Grave Images, by Jenny Goebel (Scholastic, November 2013).  The book guilt comes from the fact that when Grave Images arrived in my life, I was right in the middle of reading for the Cybils Awards...and though Grave Images travelled with me to Austen for last fall's Kidlitcon, and though I kept moving it to more conspicuous places within my house, I just never got to it till now.

In one sentence--Gothic-esque horror for the young (probably girl) reader who likes creepy but who doesn't actually want to be scared too much.

Bernie (short for Bernadette) helps her dad out as much as she can with his gravestone carving business.  She's never felt it was morbid at all--it's just a trade, allowing for some artistic creativity (which she values).  But then a mysterious stone carver knocks on their door.  His artistry at etching portraits into stone is astounding, so good it seems almost impossible that he could have done it by hand with his old tools.  The man and his tools give Bernie the chills...and rightly.   For there is Dark Evil afoot, and the beautiful stone carvings the man makes hide a terrifying truth!!!!  (cue sinister music.)

So.  Bernie and her annoying not a friend but of course really a friend Michael start to probe into the past of the mysterious artist, uncovering much creepiness.   Bernie's dreams become haunted.  And finally, in a cemetery at night Bernie must confront the evil that's invaded her life...and not give into the temptation it offers. (Gothicly, it involves an apparition in a white flowing gown.)

This one is just fine to give to a ten year old girl looking for a bit of a chill that won't actually lead to nightmares.  There is death, but it's people dying of magically induced heart-attacks, as opposed to more troubling dismemberment by hell hounds or some such.   There's a bit of budding kid romance, but Bernie and Michael are 13, so I guess a kiss on the cheek and some hand holding isn't that shocking.  

It didn't quite work for me--the horror wasn't particularly subtle or chilling, and I could have done without the underlining of lessons learned that we get at the end.   On the plus side--religion as part of ordinarily life is scarce in kid's fantasy; here Catholisism is a part of the way things are (though not involved in the horror element of the story).   

Short answer--the target audience might well enjoy it; grown-ups, not so much.

Disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher

Guess which of the three tbr piles is mine! (hint-- I'll be reading from it for tomorrow's Middle Grade Readathon)

I do so enjoy empiling books, and this evening I gathered a nice little stack together for the Middle Grade March Readathon, which is tomorrow. 

One of these piles in mine. One is my husbands. One is my ten year old's. Can you guess which is which?

If you guessed the top pile, you are A Winner!  If you had to pick one of these three piles, which would you like?  (which is not that interesting a question, really, because given that you are reading this, you would probably like mine best).

Observations: 

1.  Clearly, instead of reading I should be dusting my chess board. 
2.  I was frantically looking for the third Spirit Animals book to add to my pile, and finally thought to ask Ten Year Old.  It was in his backpack (now in his pile).
3.  There is no way in heck I can read all the books in my pile this weekend, but there in no fun at all in making a realistic pile.

Sherlock, Lupin, and Me: the Dark Lady, by "Irene Adler"

Sherlock, Lupin, and Me: the Dark Lady, by "Irene Adler" (Capstone, 2014, first published in Italy in 2011) is the story of three kids--Sherlock Holmes, Arsène Lupin, and Irene Adler--who become friends in a coastal French town in 1870.  Sherlock and Arsène are already best friends, and when Irene arrives in town for vacation she is delighted to become a partner in their adventurous lives--she is the sort of 19th-century girl who chaffs against societal restrictions, and gives her Mama conniption fits.  But when a dead body washes up on shore, Irene and the boys find themselves with a mystery to solve that leads them into the dark underworld of the not-so-peaceful town.... They must use their wits to solve the case of the dead man, and it's only when they realize why he had a single playing card in his pocket--the Queen of Spades, the titular Dark Lady of the title-- that the reason for his death becomes clear.

In one important respect, I feel well qualified this book from the point of view of the target audience.  Like many 10-13 year olds, I have never read a single Sherlock Holmes story; not an original one by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, nor any Sherlockian re-imaginings.   So here I was, meeting him for the first time (though I had, of course, acquired a general sense of his personality from cultural osmosis), and could take what I was given at more or less face value. 

In essence, this is a fine "plucky kids solving mystery" story, that fans of that genre should enjoy just fine.   The characters are engaging, challenging each other both mentally and in feats of physical daring (like rooftop jumping) during the course of their adventure.   It's the sort of book that I'd happily recommend to the kind of quirky kid who might well become interested in all things Steampunk in a few years--partly because of the cover, and the lovely endpapers with their illustrations of historical ephemera and the neat full page black and white illustrations that start each chapter, and partly just because it's a fun historical adventure.

That being said, there's a certain amount of serendipity involved in the solving, and considerably less preternatural powers of deduction being exhibited than I had expected (which I found disappointing).  On top of that, there's a certain amount of suspension of disbelief required to accept that these kids are poking their noses into an ongoing investigation around the town without much adult response.  Those who like really zesty mysteries that allow for intense reader engagement in solving the case might be a tad disappointed.   The target audience is also going to be more willing to take young Sherlock at face value as he is presented here-- a relatively normal kid, showing few signs of the brilliant detective he is going to become--and will also more readily accept young Irene as a person, rather than something of a stock character (plucky girl anachronistically defining parents and joining boys in adventure).

Throughout the book there are hints of what the future will bring, that I think are more nudges to grown-up readers than information that adds value for the young reader.  I myself had never heard of  Arsène Lupin, and so was disconcerted to be told point blank that he was going to grow up to become a thief--it kicked me out of the story at hand.  I had never heard of Irene Adler, presented as the author--she is an actual character in some Sherlockian adventures to come, and based on what I've just read, her relationship with young Sherlock might contradict what is "supposed" to happen in the original stories.    But I'm willing to grant that it's a neat premise.

My own maddeningly picky reader 13-year old who's interested in Steampunk and the 19th century is showing encouraging signs of interest--I shall continue to leave the book lying around the house in various positions of noticability in hopes that he might actually read it, because I think he would enjoy it!

disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher

Going stir crazy, but wondering if anyone wants to meet up in Brookline on March 9 for the Death Sworn release party

Yes, it's nice to have a warm wood burning stove in the living room, but it sure does result in a maddening cluster of family, drawn, not un-naturally, to its warmth.  As a result, I (drawn likewise to the warmth) find myself unable to concentrate on reading and reviewing, and kind of wish they would all go away for a weekend...much as I love them. 

But in any event, I am planning to get out of the house myself on Sunday, March 9, bravely driving north to Brookline (a Boston-ish place) where the Children's Book Shop will be hosting the release party for Leah Cypess' new book, Death Sworn, from 2-4.   It would be a lovely added bonus if any of you other Boston area bloggers came too....Here's the facebook announcement.

Always a Witch, by Carolyn MacCullough

With some time travel books, there's just no point in worrying about the historical accuracy of it all--the time travel serves nicely (if the book is good) to advance a plot that isn't really dependent on taking place in an alternate time at all.  Such is the case with Always A Witch, by Carolyn MacCullough (sequel to Once a Witch, Clarion Books 2011).

Teenaged witch Tamsin must travel back to the 19th-century to do some serious foiling with her newly realized magical powers-  if her foiling is not successful, the bad magical family might destroy her own, much nicer, magical ancestors.    A pause ensues while the reader (at least, me) works hard to suspend disbelief as Tamsin, after wandering around for a while, not exactly fitting in with the locals, finds employment at the home of her enemies.   After this point, there's no need to suspend disbelief with regard to time travel, as the book turns into a zippy magical power struggle.   Tamsin's beau Gabriel joins her back in the past (good thing, too, because he's very helpful), and the bad family does nasty things with the blood of innocent victims.  They are so busy, in fact, doing bad things that the complete inadequacy of their household staff (Tamisin, though a weak reed, is not the only problem) bothers them not a whit.

Some time travelish interest is added by way of Gabriel's gift--he can Find things, and one of the things he starts having trouble Finding is all the family that should still be safe in the present.   The past needs fixing, and this adds a dash of tension that's a nice contrast to blood-letting manipulations. 

So in short, Always a Witch is very fast, fun (though not for the victims) magical excitement, though not one to read for thoughtful reflections on the differing cultural mores of past and present!  The good guys (Tamsin and Gabriel) are likable and their romance is romantic, the bad guys are nasty, the writing is just fine, and the magical powers being wielded against each other are nicely imaginative. 

Don't try reading this one without reading the first, and since the first is also zesty entertainment, there's no reason to skip it.  I'm glad I remembered enjoying the first; this one made a nice change from my standard middle grade fare.

Nightingale's Nest, by Nikki Loftin-- with interview, link to giveaway, and excerpt!

Way back in November I went to Kidlitcon in Austen, and had the pleasure of meeting Nikki Loftin.  This was lovely in and of itself, in part because I had enjoyed her first book, The Sinister Sweetness Of Splendid Academy, but as an added bonus she gave me an ARC of her new book, Nightingale's Nest (Razorbill, Feb. 2014). Nightingale's Nest is a reimagining of Hans Christian Anderson's story, "The Nightingale," but though there are clear parallels and echoes enough to please those who enjoy reimaginings for their own sake, this new story stands alone just fine.  

It tells of two hurting children, and the unforgettable summer when their lives intersect.  12 year old "Little John," as he is known, is working side by side with his father for the first time, on a massive landscaping project for the rich old "emperor" Mr. King, owner of a chain of Texas stores.  Money for John's family is tight as all get out, but deeper than that worry is the grief they are living with--John's little sister falling from a tree, and his mother has been driven almost mad with sorrow.

At the edge of the emperor's property, he meets Gayle, perched high in a tree--a foster child with sadness of her own.   She has lost her parents, but can't stop hoping they will find her again.  Just as they told her too, she has made a nest for herself, up in the tree with her small treasures, and she waits for them to hear her singing and come find her again.

And the magic of Gayle's singing, and just her own sweet self, start to bring some measure of healing to John and his father.  But Mr. King has heard Gayle's song too, and wants it for his collection of recordings.  And he will pay John for it, money that John needs to save his family, and John must decide whether or not to betray Gayle's trust....and the sadness of it all gets ratcheted up and up.

I had to put it down here and there, and go off and do other things, and I wondered if it was maybe too sad for the target audience of 10-12 year olds.  But I think it is a sadness that will be harder for grown-ups than for kids to read about--the child reader might well feel sorry, and be truly moved, but the grown-up reader (judging by my own personal reaction) will want to fix things, which of course is impossible.  That being said, it might be too much for younger children who are either strongly empathetic and/or vulnerable themselves, and though the ending resolves things in a hopeful way, it might not offer quite enough security and comfort to off-set the sadness (but again, this might be just my personal reaction!).

But in any event, it is a lovely book, moving and powerful.  Fans of fairy tale re-imaginings should definitely seek it out, and so should fans of magic mixing with the real world, and so also should those who love books that hit the heart full-on (but not so much those who want light fluffy escapist fun!).  And though the cover shows a girl, and though girls will like this book just fine, I hope it finds its way to boys too--it does, after all, have a boy as the central character...

And now, the interview!

Hi Nikki!  So Nightingale's Nest started out as a picture book, called The Treasure Nest.  What made it grow into a full-fledged novel? Did you keep coming back to it over the years, or was there a sudden surge? And how did the writing of The Sinister Sweetness Of Splendid Academy fit into it?

It took years, long painful ones! I think maybe every author has a story or two they must tell no matter what, and this was one of those for me. I could not stop thinking about that picture book, even after agents, editors, and critique partners had all gently let me know it wasn’t going to fly. I revised it as a picture book again and again. Then I tried writing it as a novel, but without any fairy tale connection. That didn’t work either.

All the while, I was doing school and library visits, talking about my debut novel, The Sinister Sweetness of Splendid Academy, and my favorite fairy tales. Hansel and Gretel was at the top of the list, but The Nightingale was a close second. When I was messing around with the failed novel draft one day, I wondered if I could do something like I’d done with Sinister Sweetness, reworking a fairy tale in contemporary America. The Nightingale seemed a natural fit. I began to weave Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale loosely in with my initial story of a girl who climbed a tree and built a nest, and a boy who was afraid to climb up to join her… and once I realized it was the boy’s story to tell, it worked! I wrote the draft of Nightingale’s Nest in less than three months, and that draft is remarkable similar to the one that will be published.

Is The Nightingale a story that had particular meaning for you, as a child or an adult?

I was raised in a family of musicians. Our house was filled with instrumental and vocal music, and like reading, I don’t remember a day when I didn’t sing or play. (I played violin, cello, ukulele, and piano, all with varying degrees of skill.) So the idea in The Nightingale that the most beautiful thing in the whole of China was a song? I liked that as a child.

As an adult, I had a career for a decade or so as a Director of Family Ministries in the Presbyterian Church. One of my jobs every Sunday was to interpret the week’s scripture for the children, and present it in the children’s sermon. The act of thinking deeply about concepts like grace, forgiveness, and redemption, and distilling them for kids, left its mark on my brain. As an author, I found myself drawn to the selfless act of the nightingale in Andersen’s story, and in the way I saw grace at work there. I wanted to explore it further, and the form of a novel gave me the space to do that.

And did you ever have your own treasure nest? 

I still do, sort of! The desk I write at has these little shelves where I keep things that are significant to me: a picture of my grandma when she was young, my favorite childhood toys (two Weebles and a Raggedy Ann doll), a rock from a beach in Normandy, and love notes from my sons, among other things. I’ve always collected small items that meant something to me, little talismans against forgetting what really matters.

Was it hard writing a book in which the main characters were hurting so badly? (I imagine that you must have had to hug your loved ones more than usual....)

Yes, it was ridiculously hard, emotionally. I cried buckets of tears writing it, many of them sitting at various lunch tables in Austin with my mom! (She lives close by, and I figured she was about the only person in the world who would listen to me blubber on about how horrible Little John’s life had been. I have the best mom in the world - she listened without complaint for all three of those months!)

and finally---what's next? 

Wish Girl! I just turned in my editorial revision for my third book, another middle grade with Razorbill. This one is also magical realism, with a bit more magic and humor, and less tragedy (although it has some of that, too). It’s about a boy who runs away to a valley to be away from people – and bumps into a girl who seems to think her wishes come true, and who may need the boy to save her life if they don’t.

I will look forward to it--congratulations!  Thank you so much for stopping by, Nikki!


Here's the scene from Nightingale's Nest when John first meets Gayle:

She just started humming under her breath, the same tune she’d been singing, but this time, it was softer. It still brought tears to my eyes.

At least I thought that’s what was happening. It must have been, because as I watched her, and listened to the music, the singing that got louder and louder, clearer and higher and purer, she got… fuzzy around the edges. Her outline was against the sun, I thought, that’s why she seemed to blur. It was awful hot; maybe it was just the flickering mirage of heat lines.

I wiped my eyes again, and squinted up at her. The more she sang, the more she seemed to shimmer against the sky, her edges feathering into the background blue.

Her voice was loud now, so loud I couldn’t have stopped the sound even by plugging my ears. Through the melody, though, I heard something squeal and slam behind me, on the other side of the fence.  A door.

Someone else was listening.

I turned and saw the Emperor, a hundred yards back, standing outside his back door, a deep purple, velvety robe flapping around his bony legs. He was staring at the tree, mouth wide open, watching the girl. The sunlight glinted on his wrinkled, wet cheeks. I wondered, for a moment, at the sight of a grown man crying. But her voice… it was the kind that could bring tears to anyone, I figured.

Cra-ack! I knew the sound of a branch cracking. I whirled back around.
That’s when I realized the girl had to be touched. She hadn’t started to come down at all—she’d started to climb out on the branch, toward me. She was perching, hopping like a wren, further and further out on one of the limbs that wouldn’t hold her.

I knew what was going to happen next. She was going to go out too far on the branch, and it would snap under her. She would fall, screaming, in a shower of small branches, leaves, and bark.

It was the nightmare I had every night.

I wouldn’t be there to catch her. I never made it to the base of the tree in time, my legs too small, too short, my hands reaching out at the ends of arms too weak to hold her anyway.

And I would have to watch her snap like a bough herself, on the ground, the blood as red as a cardinal’s wing.

It was the nightmare I’d lived once before. 

And the reason I had devoted my life to cutting down every tree in the world.

Every last murderous tree.

The girl screamed as she fell, and I raced to catch her, knowing I would be too late.

You can enter to win a copy of Nightingale's Nest, and a paperback of Sinister Sweetness at this blog tour giveaway.


Final note--uttermost kudos to Razorbill for the beautiful cover--there's nothing I noticed in the text that signifies Gayle's ethnicity, so it's a lovely thing they chose to show her as a shining, lovely, black girl.  More covers like this and no-one will bat an eyelash because  Rue in the Hunger Games is black (I hope).

So because I think it would be a good thing just for that reason (and not just because it's a good book) if lots of people bought Nightingale's Nest, here are all the on-line places you can get it:

Amazon

B&N

Books-a-Million

Indiebound

Google Play

Itunes

This week's round-up of middle grade sci fi and fantasy from around the blogs (2/23/14)

Welcome to this week's round-up--I didn't have time to do much scrounging, so may well have missed things--please let me know!
The Reviews:

Beswitched, by Kate Saunders, at Things Mean a Lot

The Blue Lady, by Eleanor  Hawken, at Nayu's Reading Corner (giveaway)

The Children Next Door, by Jean Ure, at Charlotte's Library

Doll Bones, by Holly Black, at alibrarymama

The Eighth Day, by Diane K. Salerni, at Middle Grade Mafioso

Flora and Ulysses, by Kate DiCamillo, at Candace's Book Blog and GreenBeanTeenQueen

The Gargoyle in my Yard, by Philippa Dowding, at Mother Daughter Book Reviews

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, by Catherynne M. Valente, at Geranium Cat's Bookshelf

The Grimm Conclusion, by Adam Gidwitz, at Becky's Book Reviews

The House on Parchment Street, by Patricia McKillip, at Finding Wonderland

How to Catch a Bogle, by Catherine Jinx, at alibrarymama

How To Train Your Dragon, by Cressida Cowell, at Mister K Reads

The Interrupted Tale, by Maryrose Wood, at Kid Lit Geek

The Lotus Caves, by John Christopher, at Views From the Tesseract

Magic Marks the Spot, by Caroline Carlson, at Mister K Reads

Operation Bunny: The Fairy Detective Agency's First Case, by Sally Gardner, at Bibliophilic Monologues

Ophelia and the Marvelous Boy, by Karen Foxlee, at The Book Monsters

The Quantum League: Spell Robbers, by Matthew J. Kirby, at Charlotte's Library and The Englishist

The Rithmatist, by Brandon Sanderson, at Sonderbooks

Rose, by Holly Webb, at Sonderbooks

The Runaway King, by Jennifer Neilsen, at The Haunting of Orchid Forsythia

The Secret Box, by Whitaker Ringwald, at Ms. Yingling Reads

The Shadow Throne, by Jennifer Nielsen, at Random Musings of a Bibliophile, The A P Book Club, Jen Robinson's Book Page, and Stacked

Sidekicked, by John David Anderson, at Guys Lit Wire

A Snicker of Magic, by Natalie Lloyd, at Literate Lives

A Tale Dark and Grimm, by Adam Gidwitz, at My Precious

Theodosia and the Last Pharoah, by R.A. LaFevers, at Jean Little Library

The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp, by Kathi Appelt, at Sonderbooks

The Vengekeep Prophecies, by Brian Farrey, at The Book Monsters

Zoe and Zack and the Yogi's Curse, by Lars Guignard, at Candace's Book Blog


Three at Views from the Tesseract:  Tesla's Attic, by Neal Shusterman and Eric Elfman, Spider Stampede by Ali Sparks, Sasquatch Escape, by Suzanne Selfors

Two at Redeemed Reader-- The Handbook for Dragon Slayers, by Merrie Haskell, and The Time Fetch, by Amy Herrick

And two at Ms. Yingling Reads:  Handbook for Dragon Slayers and The Shadow Throne

Authors and Interviews:

Jennifer Nielsen (The Shadow Throne) at The Enchanted Inkpot

Nikki Loftin (Nightingale's Nest) at The Book Cellar (giveaway)

Neil Shusterman and Eric Elfman (Tesla's Attic) at Project Mayhem

F.T. Bradley (Double Vision: Code Name 711) at The Secret Files of Fairday Morrow

A weeks' worth at Susan K. Quinn:

Monday: Warrior Faeries and Math Magick: How Susan Kaye Quinn is using a Virtual Author Visit video and Teacher's Guide to reach readers with her MG novel, Faery Swap.

 

Tuesday: Faery, Fairy, Sweet and Scary: a discussion with MG author Kim Batchelor on writing about Faeries in kidlit.

 

Wednesday: Sci Fi for the Middle Grade Set: a discussion with MG author Dale Pease about writing SF for kids.

 

Thursday: Writing Indie MG: a roundup of indie MG authors (Michelle Isenhoff, Elise Stokes, Lois Brown, Mikey Brooks, Ansha Kotyk) about why they write MG and how to reach readers, including their indie MG author Emblazoner's group catalog.

 

Friday: Marketing Indie Middle Grade - The Hardest Sell - about reaching MG readers as an MG author.

Other Good Stuff:

A Tuesday Ten of music at Views from the Tesseract

Lee and Low is giving away a copy of Dear Mrs. Parks: A Dialogue With Today's Youth, by Gregory J. Reed, signed by Rosa Parks herself!  Head on over to Lee and Low's Facebook page to enter; ends Feb. 26

Looking ahead to next weekend--Middle Grade March kicks off with a day long read-a-thon--more info. here

And looking even further ahead, here's the Fall 2014 Children's Sneak Preview from Publisher's Weekly --lots of good mf sff!

The Quantum League: Spell Robbers, by Matthew J. Kirby

Spell Robbers, by Matthew J. Kirby (Scholastic 2014) is about a boy, Ben, who discovers he has preternatural powers (in this case, the ability to alter reality through the mental manipulation of matter and energy), and who is whisked off to the headquarters of the good guys so that his preternatural powers of actuation can be honed and used against the bad guys.   He then is the chief player in an adventurous ploy that foils the bad guys.

This is not, in and of itself, an original plot, and I was doubtful. But as the story unfolded, more complexity of plot and character were added to the mix, and by the end of it, I'd found it enjoyable, and am happy to recommend it to ten (or so) year olds who love to cheer for outstanding kids in extraordinary circumstances.

Here's what made it hard for me to become invested:

The bad guys are called the Dread Cloaks, and the good guys are the League.  This is not subtle, and it makes it hard to take the Dread Cloaks seriously.   The Dread Cloaks, in general, never rise above the level of cartoonish villains--they too have powers of actuation, and it's pointed out to the reader that even small manipulations of reality can have cataclysmically evil results.  The Dread Cloaks, however, seem more concerned with turf wars and petty heists than true evil, making them less dreadful than they might have been. 

The reader is required to carry out a huge suspension of disbelief--once Ben (and other kids) are taken into the League, all trace of them is wiped from the minds of everyone outside the League.  Which is a pretty stupendously difficult thing to do, but we have to accept that it happened, only  I kept wondering how on earth you could find everyone who ever knew a kid, and erase their memories.   Thoughts of material remnants (what happened to all his possessions?) kept drifting through my mind, which was distracting.

On the other hand, there was enough I found interesting to balance out these reservations:

Ben is the bestest actuator of all (no surprise) but he actually has to learn things and it doesn't all come (totally) naturally.

More importantly, Ben really, really hates that his mother's mind has been wiped.  He loves his mom, and wants to be reunited with her, in large part because he thinks she needs him.   And this makes him rather hostile toward the League, adding interesting internal conflict.  Both Ben and the reader don't know who to trust, and the reader strongly sympathizes with Ben's reluctance to become a pawn in a game that he doesn't comprehend.  Clearly, the Dread Cloaks are bad (or they would have picked a different name), but is the League actually good?  With the addition of a character with a questionable path and questionable motives, the ambiguity increases, and this is what kept me turning the pages.

And finally, I found it interesting to read about a kid who's primary motivation is to be reunited with his mother.   It made a really nice change for a book to address a kid's separation from his parents as something that actually is meaningful for the kid, and which effects his actions and choices.   Middle grade kids are beginning to toy with the idea of separation themselves (some more enthusiastically than my own), and I think this is a theme that might well resonate with many of them. 

So in the end, despite my initial reservations, I found myself looking forward to the sequel.

Here's another review at Random Musings of a Bibliophile, The Englishist, and Ms. Yingling Reads

Note on label:  though the people in the book maintain that actuation is science, not magic, I just cannot believe it is possible enough to lable this book science fiction!  It is more like superpower fantasy.

Disclaimer: review copy received from the publisher

Why Candy Crush has been a force for good in my life

Round about the end of last September, I happened to read a tweet from Liz in which she shared the happy news that she beat a level of Candy Crush.   I had not heard of it before, and assuming that if a game was good enough for Liz, it was good enough for me, I started playing.....I have just now beaten level 400, and have sent out a call to my Candy Crush friends on Facebook to help me advance to the next level.

It would be easy to say I was addicted to the game, and to say that I had wasted hours of my precious life on something pointless.  But this would not be fair--Candy Crush has actually added lots of point to my life.

For one thing, I have been perforce been on Facebook a lot more.  I had been dismissive of it, and not bothered, but I have truly enjoyed reading the things my friends are sharing!  I feel Connected and Warmed.   And because my Candy Crush friends and I help each other out, I feel a sense of kinship with them, a sense of friendly camaraderie that brightens my day.  When a friend I haven't seen in real life for decades sends me a game life, I smile; when I friend I've seen more often does, I'm reminded of happy times together.   It is because of Candy Crush that I finally uploaded a picture of myself into my Facebook profile...

Candy Crush is also encouraging my children to Think of Others.  If you are one of my game friends, and wonder why I send lives so profligately, know that it is not me, it is my boys, sitting by my side as I play and bound and determined to generously spew forth lives at every opportunity.  And they do sit by my side/breathe down my neck lots, making it Quality Bonding Time as we sharpen our minds together on the challenges of making the stripped/wrapped combos.

And the fact that I play Candy Crush makes me unlikely to resent my husband's preoccupation with his own on-line games, thus strengthening our marriage.  After all, we are playing in the same room.

Still, I am rather glad you only get five lives at a time.  I will never forget the summer I lost to Civilization....

The Children Next Door, by Jean Ure, for Timeslip Tuesday

Sometimes it's easy to tell when a ghost is a ghost, and to say "not time travel."  Some hauntings are trickier, though...and such is the case of The Children Next Door, by Jean Ure (1994), and in explaining why I think it's timeslip than ghost, I'll spoil it a little, but it can't be helped.

In any event, 11 year old Laura moves into a new house, and soon after, while lying in the garden reading a book (she gets character points from me for this, which is about the only time she does), she hears the voices of children next door.  They are a brother and his older sister, Tommy and Em, having an argument, which results in Em throwing Tommy's toy over the fence into Laura's yard, and coming to look for it.  Laura, being shy, instinctively hides, mentally kicking herself for being so pathetic (and though it's understandable, and necessary for the plot, it's rather wet of her) and so doesn't meet Em.

And though Laura hears Em and Tommy, and their friend Kate, and peaks at them over the fence, no one else believes they are real, and her parents think Laura is much to imaginative.  So everyone is happy when Laura makes friends with the girl who really is living next door, Zilla, a live wire who is a tad obnoxious, but it's nice for Laura to be livened up.  And Laura doesn't mention Em and co. to Zilla, though she's still seeing and hearing them on occasion, because she's now trying to convince herself that they aren't real.

These shadowy children next door fit most of the criteria for ghosts, except for one crucial fact--two of them are still alive.  What Laura is experiencing are sort of memory imprints of their past, and so though she isn't exactly traveling back in time, nor are they travelling forward; instead, past and present are overlapping.  This is exactly the sort of book where "timeslip" becomes a more useful word than "time travel."

I would have liked it just fine as a child, and doubtless re-read it; as a grown-up, it was rather slight and I never saw much in Laura or Zilla, and I thought Em was one of the meanest sisters I've met in ages.  It's by  no means a bad book; I didn't mind reading it at all, and do consider offering it to any 10 year old you have on hand who enjoys quieter mysteries in which one never leaves the house and garden....and how appreciates books that finish with a nice dollop of tragedy.