"The Rock and the River" by Kekla Magoon

There was something in the timing of this book. I had just attended the dedication of the Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial and had been thinking a lot about how it must have felt to grow up as a child of the famous preacher (two of his children spoke at the ceremony). Not three days later, I picked up this book to read for an upcoming conference. It is the story of Sam and his brother, Steven ("Stick") who are the sons of a famous (but fictional) civil rights leader in Chicago. It is 1968 and while their father preaches nonviolence, both boys struggle with questions about the right path to follow, particularly as the Black Panther Party grows in strength and numbers in their inner city neighborhood. Unlike "Patterson Heights" the cover art is accurate. Sam is 13 and the image on the book looks like a 13 year-old. For the most part, Sam acts 13, struggling to find the right words to say to a cute girl he likes and idolizing his older brother. Unfortunately, this first novel for the young author Kekla Magoon is a tad inconsistent in "voice." When bad things happen, and they did in this period of history, Sam pops out of being a kid to being a mouthpiece for Magoon's literary skills. Take this passage, "On the left wall, surrounding the windows, hung a huge curtain of African-print cloth. Deep blue swirled among lighter shades, like ocean draped in sky. The room had a voice of its own, a scream of outrage, a whisper of truth, and in the corner, a murmuring cry." It's beautiful, even prophetic, but it isn't consistent with the thoughts of your average 13 year old. There are many ways this could have been addressed -- Sam could have been made older, or the narrative could have been third person instead of first person, giving the opportunity for a meta-voice behind the story. Ms. Magoon could have split the narrative between Sam and his older brother, a popular trend these days, to give a variety of perspectives. As it is, the novel didn't really work for me. I didn't feel the book was bad but it was distracting. Every time the narrative began to wax poetic I felt a disconnect from the character. The end result is that this book came off more as one of those 1970 message novels than a compelling story. "The Rock and the River" is a parable -- one that gets repeated in some form three times in the book. On one hand, it's like we are being beaten over the head "This is the MORAL," but on the other hand, the full parable is never explained (nor could I find it on Google) so it was frustrating on multiple levels. My general "ehh" feeling on the book is a rarity. It has won numerous awards and is considered a notable title. So give it a shot, particularly if you don't get stuck on little minutiae like me.

"Ghosts of War: The True Story of a 19 Year-Old GI"

This is not an anti-war book. It is not a pro-war book. It is not a policy essay nor a social commentary. It is the story of a young man who loses his innocence -- and loses it in a far more profound way than most. Ryan Smithson was a high school student who joined the military after watching the twin towers fall. At 19 he was sent to Iraq. This is a nonfiction account of his 12 months there. Told in short vignettes, the story is dry and to the point. He doesn't load in sentimentality or opinion, just tells tale after tale of the boring days, the hard days, the scary days. There are laughs along the way, and a lot of detail on what a soldier might do other than "capture cities." Ryan is an equipment operator who helps to pave roads, fix bridges, shore up barriers. In his words, there is nothing glamorous about the work, nothing that will get him and his fellow brothers-in-arms on the news, but their efforts are vital to the day-to-day operations in the war zone. The matter-of-fact style of the book actually makes it more powerful. It's clear from the beginning that Ryan's stoic narrative is about his need to distance himself emotionally from the events surrounding him. When he finally does have to face the struggles he experienced, I cried with him. Specialist Smithson did not write this book to make a statement, he wrote it as catharsis. It is powerful, well-crafted and may be a good insight into how the soldiers on the ground are coping with the war that will not end. Ryan is not making a political statement, he is making a personal one. The choice to serve was personal, the experiences were indelible, and he should be thanked for working so hard not only to share this part of his life, but to help the reader truly understand. Stunningly good and worth the read. Bravo, sir.

"Patterson Heights" by Felicia Pride

Avery Washington is a good kid. Living in Baltimore's inner city, he is part of a gifted program at school, goes to church on Sundays, idolizes his older brother, Rashid, and has two parents who have scraped and saved to start a college fund for the boys. Avery's life changes in an instant, when his brother is killed by a senseless act. It is a story oft-told about young black men in the city, and we rarely get an inside look into the realities of what life is like in the months following such an event. Echoing both "Speak" by Laurie Halse Anderson and "The Year Without Michael" by Susan Beth Pfeffer, the grief here is palpable. Avery goes silent. Unable to speak through his sadness, his thoughts and insights border on the poetic. His strong family falls apart and he finds himself living like a shadow in a small apartment with a mother and father who are as distant as strangers. While he doesn't realize it initially, he is lucky. People come into his life who end up being different kinds of supports at this difficult time. The writing is strong and the character compelling. You truly want Avery to find his way back from the gloom. However ... this is a very different world, complete with a different vocabulary. In many books of this kind, the author tries to give the reader context to understand what they are reading. In Walter Dean Myer's "145th Street," for example, the language is true to the setting, but he creates narrators or contexts that allow the reader to enter into that world. That is not the case here. In many ways, it feels like this book, part of the "Kimani Tru" series, is written solely for inner city kids. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean, last month I read about a teenage girl who discovers, in Nigeria, that she is part of the "Leopard People." It was a completely alien civilization, but the author provided enough context for me to get it. Here was a story about good old America, and yet, I felt that some of the language and sociology being portrayed was shutting me out, that I was unwelcome as a reader because I didn't fit the demographics the series shoots for. This, of course, is my take. It would be interesting to see if my students feel the same. My only other beef is with the cover art, which makes Avery look like some hot 20 something, instead of the slightly geeky 15 year-old he actually is. Never a fan of misleading folks with cover art. Despite the complaints, the story is compelling and the emotion real. It's worth a read, even if you don't get all the references.

"Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty" by G. Neri, illustrated by Randy DuBurke

This fast-reading graphic novel tells the story of "Yummy" an eleven year-old boy shot to death in Chicago's ghetto after committing numerous crimes, including murder. The story is told from the perspective of the fictional character, Roger, a neighborhood boy trying to resolve the unsolvable ... was Yummy a victim or a predator? The book has garnered numerous awards and is a nice, succinct retelling of a short life, but it doesn't stray much from the source material, namely the news reports that swirled around the 'hood in those final days. It is almost factual in the dispassionate presentation, although the black and white ink drawings manage to convey some of the emotions pouring out of the community. The drawings are both good -- they use close-ups with detailed hatching for emphasis; and bad -- both Yummy and his grandmother are drawn inconsistently, giving me double-takes from time to time as to who the character was. One thing that nagged at me was why our narrator, Roger, would have a brother in the same gang as Yummy when his home life seemed quite stable. I couldn't help but feel it was an artificial device used to make a point. Other than that, the subject matter was terrific, the story-telling clean, but the overall effect for me was "okay."

"Half Brother" by Kenneth Oppel

It's 1973 and Ben Tomlin is not a happy camper. His parents just made him leave the bustle of Toronto to live in a farmhouse in Victoria, and now his mother comes home with a new baby brother. He has to make new friends, figure out how to get a girl to like him and his parents seem to forget his 13th birthday. The twist is -- the new baby brother isn't human, he's a chimp. Ben's parents are researchers and they are attempting to teach his brother, "Zan" sign language. A fictional tale that draws heavily on an actual experiment ("The Chimp That Learned Sign Language" http://www.npr.org/2008/05/28/90516132/the-chimp-that-learned-sign-language) this is a story that is engaging and warm. Ben is a normal kid, going through typical teen trauma -- the bully kid, the girl he likes who may or may not like him, a father who can't connect. But Ben is more than that, he is a young boy bonding with a "younger brother" who is unique. Early on, I saw the inevitable issues arise. Somewhat more intense than your average Lassie story, this one goes down the path you might expect, and breaks your heart along the way. Through the last third of the book, it was kleenex central. You can't help but come to love Ben and Zan, and realize that there really is no place for them to "be" as a family. Minor complaints about a lack of editing (Ben's reactions to stress become repetitive and make him occasionally feel a little whiney) and no author's note (given that this is a barely fictionalized account of a real event, details on the actual experiment should have been provided) are not enough to ruin an otherwise excellent tale that should have broad appeal. Despite the historical setting, the characters come off as contemporary and real, young people that most teens could relate to. The book also provides an excellent discussion point -- was this experiment ethical? Are any animal experiments of this type worth it?

"Hate List" by Jennifer Brown

The really good authors excel at "what if?" What if a teenage girl, used to being bullied, turned to a boyfriend for solace, and the two of them created a list of all the people they wished would "go away?" What if the boyfriend shows up at school one day and began killing all of those on the "hate list?" What if the girl lived? Then what? Much like the Walter Dean Myers book "Monster," this novel explores a horrific act from the viewpoint of someone at the center of the storm. Valerie is a girl in crisis. She doesn't know who she is and desperately needs to understand whether she is hero or villain. The solid writing doesn't answer these questions directly, but lets the tale spin out as it should, leaving the reader to interpret and, perhaps, judge. Told in brutal detail, if this were a movie it would be filmed nearly entirely in close-up. Broken into four parts, the story swings from one time period to another in the initial part, mirroring Valerie's state of mind as she attempts to comprehend events that seem almost surreal. As she gains clarity, the timeline locks into the present. Newspaper clippings reflect a societal viewpoint, while teardrops of varying degrees of darkness open each chapter. The book ends as it should, with only one small sentence jumping out at me as being overly optimistic. It is an excellent novel, and one that will be talked about ... but it was terrifically hard to read. Much like "Lovely Bones" this is not a title I would have selected for myself, but one I read in anticipation of attending a book discussion. Emotionally, it left me totally wrecked. Maybe, as an educator, it was too painful to think about. Maybe, as a person who could see where Valerie was coming from, it was too close to home. There are bright spots in the fog of Valerie's life, but not many. Needless to say, I will be choosing to follow up with something that doesn't leave me with bad dreams. This is a great read, it's just not particularly fun. Brava to Ms. Brown, a young woman who created a stunning debut novel.

"Marcelo in the Real World" by Francisco X. Stork

"Be in the world but not of the world." A biblical quote with tremendous meaning and weight in regard to this book, Mr. Stork has provided us with another story of Asperger's Syndrome. Like "Mockingbird" and "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time" this tale gives the reader a very up-close look into the mind of someone who sees the world through a different lens. Unlike those other novels, this one has a lighter tone, and is more about day-to-day living than any specific tragedy (although there is a mystery of sorts). Marcelo is a 17 year-old who takes us into his reflections in a roundabout way, often using a third person narrative to describe his life. His "special interest" is religion, and religious themes play a nice counterpoint to the ideas and concepts addressed as Marcelo attempts to navigate a new path. Marcelo is very real and very compelling. It didn't take long to care about a young man who honestly wants to do the right thing. In the end, it was a book I stayed up late at night to finish because I simply had to see how things would turn out for him. The novel was another winner of the Schneider Family Award, given to books which detail those living with the disability experience. Marcelo would want me to say that a) he is not disabled and b) he does not have Asperger's, he has an undiagnosed condition that most closely resembles Asperger's. Marcelo is nothing if not specific. The book is a lovely story of discovering the wider world and of gaining insight along the way. It is easy to see why it has been given honors and awards. Take this journey with Marcelo.

"Folly" by Marthe Jocelyn

This tale of Victorian England tells the story through multiple voices and years. With echoes of Oliver Twist, we hear from Mary, a simple country girl done wrong; James Nelligan, a fostered waif; Eliza, a a jealous scullery maid; and Oliver, a history teacher with a past. Not nearly as dark or lengthy as your average Dickensonian tome, it still manages to portray the time in realistic terms that show the often insurmountable challenges faced by those on the lower echelon of society. It has sad parts, but it isn't depressing. Mary's voice, in particular, is written in a plaintive, ironic, simple way using vernacular of the period. The "big secret" of the story is one I guessed early on, and while the ending may not be Disney, it isn't bleak. I could wax on, but that would be a disservice to a nice little novel that made for an enjoyable read. Short and to the point, my sense is that it would have wide appeal if you could actually get kids to read historical fiction. While the book is not romance, there is a storyline involving pre-marital sex. It is plainly stated but but not over the top. This element may make the book a better read for somewhat older students.

"The Devil's Paintbox" by Victoria McKernan

An excellent historical fiction novel, this tells the tale of Aiden Lynch, a young boy whose life is destroyed by the chaos of the Civil War who joins a wagon train west. Along with his sister, they experience eye-opening adventures and heartbreak along the Oregon Trail. As usual, the cover art is deceiving. As the book begins, Aiden is "almost 16." The young man on the cover looks more like a person in his late 20s. At times, the writing seems a tad heavy-handed and events forced a bit, but then you remember that in this place, in this time, life was larger and childhood was much more brief. Without doubt, this is not "Little House on the Prairie." In the end, I was won over by an authenticity in the details. The third person narrative and clear research by the author makes it feel like real history, even if all of these things may not have necessarily happened to one person. It is not a happy tale, although bits of light do pierce the darkness. Much like an Irishman, the reader must accept that with every good thing that happens, tragedy is likely to follow. You do begin to feel for Aiden, who doesn't recognize his own will of iron, but wonder if true happiness will ever touch his life. As usual, I do have one small complaint -- in this case, the title. "The Devil's Paintbox" refers to smallpox, and while it does weave in and out of the story, I'm not sure I would title the book in this way. It makes it seem as if this is a story about smallpox. It's really not. Admittedly, "The Devil's Paintbox" is a far more interesting title than "Aiden's Journey" or something more on point, but it's not particularly accurate. The book is a coming-of-age story, a travelogue, but not a story about a disease. It's not even a drama, strictly speaking, as there are multiple climaxes and no specific denouement. The tale meanders more than it directs, with distinct peaks at the middle of the book, another about two thirds of the way in, and one at the end. One event doesn't lead to another, they simply open the storyline to a "new chapter" as it were. In this way, the book feels real, it simply is a slice of life rather than a moral all neatly wrapped up. I liked the book, and feel that it could raise interest in this part of American history for the readers (a nice bibliography is offered at the end). I also like the strong male protagonist, feeling that it gives the book a wide appeal. With historical fiction not moving much these days, it is worth marketing.

“Miles from Ordinary” by Carol Lynch Williams

This slim novel won the Schneider Family award last year for best book about the disability experience. As usual, I had meant to read it, but it took a while to work my way through the list. The action of the book takes place in a single day and very much in the mind of our protagonist, Lacey. The activities of her life lead to a constant stream of flash-backs as she works through the challenges of being a child with a mentally ill mother. Her internal self-talk is a steady back-and-forth between the normal wishes of a young teen, and the challenging, almost impossible demands of being a child looking after an adult. Even when Lacey is around others, she is alone, feeling isolated in a prison of her mother’s delusions. It is well-written but a painful read. I could identify with Lacey’s isolation, the craving for normalcy (a better title would have been “Miles from Normal” but that probably didn’t scan as well) and the panicky feeling of being overwhelmed at her own inability to make things right. Lacey is fourteen. This is the fourth book I’ve read in the last month with a 14 year-old protagonist. Must be something about being fourteen. Lacey has to act in ways far superior to her chronological age, but at the same time, she is a scared young girl who cannot fully appreciate the circumstances surrounding her life. Despite its short length, the dizzying emotional swings and floating time focus make this a book for more mature readers. Lacey’s mother is supposedly a severe depressive, but she comes off more like a schizophrenic. The achingly slow climax, building throughout most of the book, is truly frightening and disturbing. The wish for a peaceful resolution is left to the reader’s imagination as the denouement is left fairly open. It is not an easy book to read. It is not a happy book. But it is a powerful one, and deserves the accolades it has received.

“Akata Witch” by Nnedi Okorafor

I seem to be in this place where I’m judging books by their cover. Definitely not a good call for a librarian. First, I mistake “Okay for Now” as a contemporary middle school humor novel (when it is actually a high school historical fiction coming-of-age book) and with this novel, I assumed some sort of Asian mythology. Had I looked more carefully at the cover or known the origin of the word “Akata” I would have known better. This fast-reading story is about a 14 year-old named Sunny who is an albino Nigerian girl born in the U.S. and now returned to her home country. Sunny feels a little lost – in part because of her looks, and in part because of a vision she has which presages very dark things to come. We quickly discover that Sunny is not like other people, and her differences have little to do with her skin pigmentation. One of the “Leopard Folk,” she discovers a hidden heritage and magical abilities she could only imagine in the opening pages of the book. It’s a fun tale of young teens on one of those epic journeys to stop the “big bad” and it is enlightening in terms of seeing a country I knew little about in very different ways. Despite the inevitable Harry Potter comparisons (isn’t that the case with everything these days?) it is not derivative. Any complaints I have are minor. There are some editing issues – Sunny apparently returned to Nigeria at age 9 but has been best friends with Orlu since they were five. It’s minor, but issues like these are distracting to me and should have been caught before publication. The other complaint isn’t really a complaint, but an oddness. The real story is about Sunny’s journey to self-actualization rather than the "let's get the bad guy" focus. The dramatic climax, including the epic battle, is only a few pages long. It’s almost as if this part of the tale is secondary to the character growth and relationships that occur. I don’t mind, it’s just not typical. While I enjoyed the story, I couldn’t help wondering when they were going to get to the inevitable conflict. It will be interesting to see how teen readers react to this style, as it is so different from your standard YA novel of this type. Overall, I enjoyed the book a good deal. I hope others will, too.

Two Books

Two books, one review. I read them back-to-back and was surprised at both their symmetry and similarities. Both have 14 year-old male protagonists who have talents they haven't begun to explore. Both boys begin their summers by travelling away from the city to pastoral climes. Both books succeed at discovering very real voices in the first person narratives of these young men, and the subtle humor in their observations of the world. Both are bildungsroman, my favorite $1 word, describing a coming of age novel. Both have a unique concept that ties the story together in a strong, literary way. And both are written by award-winning writers whose work I had read before. "Okay for Now" comes from Gary D. Schmidt, who has a stack of notable awards for "Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy" and "The Wednesday Wars." Kathryn Erskine had won the National Book Award with "Mockingbird" last year before she penned "The Absolute Value of Mike."

"The Absolute Value of Mike" uses Mathematical concepts to tell the tale of Mike, a boy with a distant father (possibly with Aspergers) who has to spend the summer with a kooky bunch of friends and relatives in rural Pennsylvania as a town comes together to do the impossible. The Mathematical phrases, and their descriptions, plot Mike's progress as he moves from parallel relationships to intersecting ones. Told with a light, gentle touch, this book is a fast read that makes for a good middle school text. Students who liked "Surviving the Applewhites" and "Operation Yes" will find similarities in the upbeat journey of improbable events. There is even a little of the weirdness you find in "Going Bovine" although this story is pretty much on the wholesome side. At the very least, it will have you looking at homeless people an entirely different way.

"Okay for Now" is much more complex, and more appropriate for high school. Denser with even more layers, the theme here is the work of James Audubon, and the art lessons Doug receives, which show him that balance, tension and depth are life lessons as well as art concepts. The book was hard for me to get into, not because it was bad, but because the cover set me up with different expectations. As a librarian, I should know better than to judge a book by its cover. I thought it was a contemporary humor novel and found a historical book with as much pathos as quiet grins. It took me a couple chapters to adjust. Once I did, however, I could hardly put the book down. Set in 1968, this story picks up the character of Doug from "The Wednesday Wars" and makes him the protagonist (Holling Hoodhood, the lead character in "The Wednesday Wars" makes a brief appearance near the beginning of the book). Doug's family makes a sudden move to upstate NY and, like a fish out of water, the young man tries to navigate a completely different world than the Long Island home he is accustomed to. There is a slow, lyrical quality to the work of Gary Schmidt, but I liked this far more than "Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy." While that historical novel had a compelling tale and was written as if it were a series of artistic frescoes, the characters weren't overly compelling. Here, they jump off the page. I felt as if Doug was sitting next to me telling me his story rather than just reading it. Also, unlike "Lizzie Bright" a tale that was moving towards darkness, this is a journey of a teenager moving into the light. Upbeat despite some overwhelmingly sad layers, it shows how even then, it took a village to raise a child and that the human spirit can succeed where human beings fail. The characters here are not simple. Bad guys surprise you at times, with the one exception I took being a change in a major character near the end. Despite the book's theme of redemption, I felt that the reform of this particular character was too sudden and it felt unrealistic. The rest of the book, however, felt more like autobiography than fiction. Looking at Mr. Schmidt's biography, it is clear that he may have drawn on his own life experiences, which made this book, IMHO, the best that he has written.

Bravo to Mike and Doug, two guys who made sitting down to read a deeply cool experience. Enjoy.

"The Lightning Thief" by Rick Riordan

A young boy in an unhappy home discovers he has “powers.” A series of adventures brings him to a school with others like him, where he befriends an awkward boy and a smart, talented girl. Together, they battle dark forces. No, I'm not talking about “Harry Potter.” While the plotlines are strikingly similar, this book didn't come off as derivative as it sounds. It was a great read with a contemporary feel and I can easily see the popularity. Much like J.K. Rowling, Rick Riordan grounds the mystical elements in very real pre-teens. Humor weaves throughout as Percy, our lead character, maintains his “um, yeah, right” attitude amidst growing improbabilities. The Greek myths are wonderfully integrated, enough to make the most school-resistant kid run flying to Wikipedia to learn more about the Gods. Action is plentiful from chapter to chapter, making the book a page-turner, but it has purpose and direction and character development isn't left behind as the tale progresses. I did find some of it predictable, but that's because I might (?) have a stronger understanding of the context than some of the younger readers (thank you, Hercules & Xena TV shows), but it was enjoyable. I look forward to reading the rest of the series. Yeah, I'm behind the eight-ball. I read slowly and didn't want to take books from this popular series out of the hands of students. My only problem now is how long it's going to take me to get to Riordan's hot new series, “The Kane Chronicles.”

"The Help" by Kathryn Stockett

Finally! An absolutely wonderful book, followed by an equally delightful film. “The Help” by Kathryn Stockett is a well-crafted, page-turning novel. Set in the critical year of 1963 this book tells the story of maids in the deep south and a young white woman who has a lot of growing up to do. Told in three perspectives, chapters flow between the first-person narratives of Aibileen, Minny and Skeeter as they engage in a highly dangerous activity of the time – truth-telling. I grew up in the south in the 60s. While we didn't have maids, the atmosphere of the book resonated with me, much like “The Secret Life of Bees,” a book with a similar historical theme. Like they did in that book, the characters here leap off the pages as people who are complex, engaging and real. The film is marketed as a comedy, and the book does have humor, but it defies a strict description. It is comedy, and tragedy, and history, but at its root, it is the story of people. The human look at our not-too-distant past is a critical element that made the film work as well. Lest we forget, many adult African Americans in this nation had parents who worked as domestics. The impact of that on their lives is still a powerful element the world-view of many. Of the book, I have no complaints. It meanders at times into the trivia of day-to-day living, but this doesn't detract from the story, it simply colors in the lines, making this tale one that feels like nonfiction rather than fiction. At 450 pages, it was a remarkably fast read that I tore through. The film, to the degree possible, stays faithful to the book although many elements are necessarily tightened and abbreviated. There are changes, most of which heighten dramatic tension or clarify moments. My only complaint with the film was the billing – Emma Stone, playing Skeeter, gets top billing. I strongly feel that the top billing should have been Viola Davis, who plays Aibileen. Both the book and the film begin and end with Aibileen's story. While all three women go through a psychological journey of sorts during the book, it is Aibileen, IMHO, who is the “most” transformed. Her voice is the most poignant of the tale and Viola Davis portrayed her with the true dignity and quiet majesty of the character – is it Hollywood racism that prevents her from getting the credit she should? Come award time, we will see. In the meantime, read the book, see the movie and gain a better understanding.

"Young Fredle" by Cynthia Voigt

It's not me, it's you. That's what you say, right? I'm just not in a "great place" right now, so the fact that I haven't enjoyed the books I've read lately is about me, yes? Cynthia Voigt's newest offering made it onto at least two "highly recommended" lists. Booklist liked it, SLJ liked it ... for me, it was the third "ehh" book I've read in the past month or so. Part of the problem is the target audience. The reviewers peg it anywhere from 3rd to 7th grade. At 227 pages with vocabulary words like "foraging" it feels like middle school. The plot, however, is strictly elementary. Young Fredle is, as you would have guessed, a mouse. He makes mistakes, is thrown into unexpected circumstances, has an adventure, and then, out of pluck and determination, makes it home. The character of Fredle is engaging -- the story is boiler-plate. I've heard this before! We all have. There truly wasn't one twist I didn't see coming by the end of the first chapter. There is also a didactic tone. In the midst of a narrative tale, Ms. Voigt feels compelled to put in "facts" about mice. The reader can't just take Fredle's behavior on spec, we must be told that mice "do this or do that." She makes a great deal about the fact that mice don't see color. And then young Fredle notices the green grass, yellow flowers and blue sky. It is an irritating inconsistency. It also harkens back to those young adult "message" books of the 1970s. Fredle learns many wise life lessons along his way, which Cynthia Voigt pounds us over the head with ("THIS IS THE POINT -- GET IT?"). The book is a companion to "Angus & Sadie," a tale of two dogs who live on the same property and appear as sympathetic characters here. I can see this as an excellent read-aloud for a parent of, say, a fourth grader? I'm not counting on it moving much in my school, though. The illustrations are adorable and add to the adorable quality of the entire book. I guess I just wasn't feeling very adorable when I read it. Maybe I've just been away from elementary fiction too long. But this one felt tired to me. Frankly, if you are going for animal tales, try "Tale of Despereaux", "The Rats of Nimh" or one of Brian Jacques' "Redwall" stories. ~~Oh well~~ Maybe next time.

"Jellicoe Road" by Melina Marchetta

Somehow, I missed reading this Printz winner from a few years back. I think it was so popular when it came out that I wasn't able to get a copy to read initially, then I just forgot. Well-written, yes. Layered and unique, yes. Did I like it? No. I think maybe this was just one of those "bad timing" things. Life is busy, I'm a little stressed, and reading this book in small chunks did not work. It is a complex tale -- two stories interweaving, with little context in the beginning for either. One of the tales is deliberately out of order, the other makes sense after a while but the Australian foreignness is yet another hurdle to overcome. I'm not dissing the Aussies. We adore Markus Zusak. And Margo Lanagan, despite the occasional bleak darkness, is pretty engaging. This novel, however, felt distant. Taking place (I gather) at the edge of the outback, there is a constant use of vocabulary and phrasing I had to read twice to fully understand. Add the inter-woven plots that seem to start in the middle and I was literally at chapter 14 before I began to see the arc of the book. Which was frustrating. What should have been a story of love/loss and mystery turned into a tale that was not a page-turner for me. I found the lead character, Taylor, to be nearly as irritating as Bella from "Twilight" and the so-called mystery fairly guessable once I could place the characters and events. The efforts by the author to hide facts were so successful I missed one of the "big reveals" even when it happened. She seemed more concerned with the essence of things than the things themselves. It's possible it is "just Australian." From the first pages, I could sense the cultural elements of Dreamtime and Walkabout having a lot of influence. Not being from that culture, however, I was never sure what was real or what was dreamed (the Australians, of course, would say that Dreamtime is real, just another reality). Could someone who has read the book tell me who the little boy hanging from the tree is? Four hundred pages later and I still don't know. Despite all the different threads, the story also felt contrived. At one point, a disaster-like event seems to occur for no other reason than to move characters to a key clue in the story. I guess, as a reader, I resent having events thrown in at random just to advance the tale the author wants to tell. I've always felt the best authors let the story go where it goes, instead of warping everything around the point they want to make. There is a strong group of readers who adore this book, so I can't say it's bad. It's just not for me.

"Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen

It's been a strange year. Books I didn't think I would like, I loved, and books I thought I would love, I sort-of liked. Guess which one this was? "Water for Elephants" is a New York Times Bestseller, so hugely popular it was turned into a Hollywood film (coming to a location near you!) It has a lot going for it. The tale is unique and fresh, told extremely well and the world explored is one completely foreign to most of us. I especially enjoyed the back and forth between "then" and "now." Ms. Gruen has an arch, sarcastic sense of humor that made me giggle in several inappropriate places. She seems to have a knack at writing characters she should know nothing about. I kept checking her biography in the back of the book to figure out how a young woman like her could write such a decidedly male-perspective tale, not to mention get into the head of an aging member of a senior citizen's home. In many ways, I thought this was a great novel. And yet. Set in depression-era 1930s, the detail of the story was completely on-point. So much so, that it felt a little like a 1920s era melodrama. The lead character, Jacob, his nurse, Rosemary and his sullen roommate, Walter, all seemed fairly fleshed out. So does the elephant, Rosie. But the object of his affection, Marlena, seemed to be a cardboard cutout. The same applied to her vicious husband, who was only one step away from twirling a mustache. For me, there were too many moments where I felt she was crying "I can't pay the rent" and he shouted back "You must pay the rent!" For this reason, one of the central plot points, the epic love story, just fell flat. It's like my complaint with bad productions of "Othello." You have to buy into the love story for everything else to work. The trappings of the book were fascinating, but the weakness of this element made the whole thing less engaging for me. The story is also brutal (but probably accurate) in the treatment of animals (including those of the human variety). Let's face it, I'm a wuss. Go into detail about some furry thing getting beat, and I just can't take it. The overall tone is incredibly dark, and, near the end, tremendously sad. The actual ending is kind of sweet, but in a "Schindler's List" way -- coming out of the dark to an okay moment. It's a good book, and easy to see why it has received the accolades it has. But not really my cup of tea.

"Name of the Wind" by Patrick Rothfuss

This should not have been a book I liked. Very long, at 722 pages, with painful detail and slow pacing, one might say it is Dickensonian in its scope. I don't like Dickens (the horror! A librarian dislikes Dickens!) but I did like this book. A lot. Recommended to me by a colleague, this felt like a very comfortable return to the kind of fantasy novels I read in my youth. With minimal "magic" there are many sections that could be mistaken for a story set in the middle ages. The tale begins in a tavern; with the familiar hallmarks of working folk, wooden tables, dark corners and a bartender who knows more than you might think. From there, the story meanders along, giving the reader stories within stories to weave a rich tale of heroes. The essence of heroism is one of the central themes here -- what makes a hero heroic, how mythology muddies the nature of a story and how legend changes truth. Some are comparing this book to Tolkien, and while I can see the surface parallels, in many ways this is an anti-Tolkienesque novel. Tolkien is about the journey (a metaphor for his own spiritual journey). Rothfuss is about the individual. The character of Kvothe spends the book describing his journey, but the things that happen along the way are less important than the person being forged out of these events. Rothfuss (or Kvothe) is also clearly not a fan of organized religion, making out the religious leaders to be clueless or corrupt and the faith of these simple folk as silly and pointless. A better comparison would be to the work of Ursula K. LeGuin, who is quoted on both the frontispiece and back of the book. LeGuin was a favorite author of mine for many years, and this writer seems to echo her dark sense of the world and the ongoing battle of our inner demons that was present in her Farthest Shore trilogy. Although nearly nothing happens for the first 50 pages or so (the so-called "First Day" for which the book is subtitled doesn't begin until page 59) I was intrigued and definitely felt the pull of turning the next page, charging on to the next chapter, to see what would happen. It's a credit to Rothfuss, whose writing is so rich, engaging, layered and beautiful that you just feel that you are sitting there in the tavern listening to a tale well-told. The story is downright palpable. Maybe it's the Irish in me, but I truly felt "drawn" to this book. The challenge, however, is that my life doesn't accommodate long books very well these days, and this is the first of a trilogy. Don't know what I will do about that, but I'm dying to read the next book in this Kingkiller Chronicle, entitled "The Wise Man's Fear."

"Heat Wave" by Richard Castle

I liked this book. A lot. Which is a bit of a surprise. Here's the deal: ABC has a top-ten TV show called "Castle." In the show, a popular mystery writer named Richard Castle shadows an NYPD detective for inspiration on his new set of books, focusing on a tough but sexy police officer named Nikki Heat. As part of the hype/tie-in/whatever for the show, ABC has been releasing actual books supposedly written by "Richard Castle." Needless to say, my expectations were low. I greatly enjoy the TV show, but this smelled way too much of marketing with little focus on literary merit, so I held off until ... the book climbed up the New York Times bestseller list. And then people started telling me how good it was. So, I gave it a spin. What a pleasant little gift. The book is well-paced, weaves a decent mystery with "just enough" hard-boiled detective stuff to make it engaging without being cheesy, and sticks enough to the style of the TV show to fulfill the interests of the occasionally rabid fans. A slim book, it took longer to read than I expected. There is depth here, both in the writing and in filling out that which we know about the characters in the show. Like the TV show, there is a satisfying combination of action, suspense, crime-solving, humor, and yes, sex. I'll never know how my familiarity with the TV show impacted on my appreciation of the book, but there was definitely a plus in knowing the characters involved. Not a book for your typical teen, the characters are adults who both act and speak like adults would in this kind of setting. To those of us in the know, the biggest question lies in the identity of the actual author. The bio and picture in the back of the book portray Nathan Fillion, the actor (INCREDIBLY HOT SEXY AWESOME NATHAN WE LOVE YOU) who plays Richard Castle. The dedication, acknowledgments and back-flap bio (mentioned in an episode of the show) are written as if they come from the hand of this fictitious author, full of tongue-in-cheek (winner of the Nom DePlume Society's Tom Straw Award). When pressed, the TV show producers admit that the author of the books "has appeared" on at least one episode of the show. Of course, they take pleasure in having name authors appear on the show as poker buddies of the lead character, so the choices are plentiful. Even money hangs on James Patterson (quoted on the front of the book) and Stephen J. Cannell (quoted on the back of the book). Having read the book, I'm venturing that the real author is Stephen J. Cannell. I've read a number of Patterson books of late and don't see him having the "meat" that is present in these pages. On the other hand, he is a consummate imitator of style, so who knows? I'd like to think the work is Cannell's. I've never read his books, but am a fan of his many TV shows. Stephen J. Cannell, for the uninitiated, was the producer king of TV for many years in the 70s, 80s & 90s. He got his start writing for Adam-12 and ended up creating and producing everything from Rockford Files to A-Team to Silk Stalkings to Renegade and 21 Jump Street. Yes, because of him, we have Johnny Depp. Cannell, who sadly passed away of melanoma last fall, was known as a prolific, fast writer. He was able to churn out consistent, strong scripts with lightening speed and never took himself too seriously. In interviews, he was often quoted as saying that the goal is entertainment, not Shakespeare. He never failed to entertain. A terrific accomplishment for a guy with dyslexia who struggled in school but was determined to be a writer. They have noted his passing on the show with reverence and respect. I could only hope that the publication of this series (two more titles forthcoming) is a final bow to the master. In any case, as if this review weren't long enough already, read the book. And watch the show. Fourteen million or so people have determined it is worth their time -- see if it is worth yours!

“Where the Streets Had a Name” by Randa Abdel-Fattah

The big plus for this middle-school fiction novel is that it covers a subject virtually untouched in YA lit … Palestinian teens. To my knowledge, the only other book that covers this topic is Naomi Shihab Nye’s “Habibi.” Being more contemporary (the story is set in 2004) we get a very detailed look at the challenges of living in a troubled part of the world. The story is that of Hayaat, a thirteen year-old girl living in Bethlehem. In an attempt to ease the unhappiness of her sick grandmother, Hayaat tries to make the six mile journey from Bethlehem to Jerusalem with a daredevil best friend. The obstacles that lay in the path of these two young children are significant, and at times, insurmountable. While I knew of the Israeli occupation, I had little sense of the day-to-day struggles of those who live there. The book was a marvelous insight into a tremendously sad situation. The characters are real and much like Hosseini’s “Kite Runner” I was struck by how very normal teens can be, even in extraordinary circumstances. The story is also fairly upbeat and wholesome, given the darker undertones, and this leads to my chief complaint – an inconsistency in the writing. The characters are supposed to be 13, but often come off as younger. Timelines are frequently skewed, with two weeks turning into a month and an accident that supposedly happened when Hayaat was “small” apparently happened after she was nine (if the sequence of events holds true). These are the kinds of things an editor should have caught, and a big slap on the hands to Scholastic for not cleaning them up before publication. That being said, the descriptions in the story are detailed and occasionally rich, without there being much literary poetry brought to the book. If not for the realistic, contemporary setting, one could easily mistake this for any teen lit “take a journey” novel. It is the kind of book that could end up being used as a class novel. It has many of the elements that make it a good choice: appeal to both boys and girls, the aforementioned “journey” (both physical and psychological), and connection to the Geography curriculum in terms of world conflict and displaced peoples. I do think any young person reading the book would need teacher assistance for context. I am a news-hound, but it still had me running for an atlas and Wikipedia. Arabic phrases are sprinkled throughout and are defined in a detailed glossary. While this is helps, clever ways of making meaning clear in text tends to be more popular. That way, readers don’t have to stop the flow of the story to look things up. I enjoyed the book and felt it flowed well. Hopefully, this story will give students the kind of insight it gave me.