"Raymie Nightingale" by Kate DiCamillo

Kate DiCamillo hits it out of the park again, in my humble opinion, with this very odd little book, which is about everything and nothing all at once.  Raymie Clarke's father has just taken off, leaving her mother depressed and Raymie with a plan.  She will win a local beauty contest, get her picture in the paper, and her father will see the picture and call her.  First, however, she needs to learn how to twirl a baton.  The funny thing is, at the baton class, which goes bizarrely astray, she meets two other girls and they end up having a journey or two -- physically and psychologically.  As part of her application for the contest, Raymie needs to do a good deed, and that is where the story really lies.  "Why were good deeds such murky things?" she cries at one point.  Leave it to Kate DiCamillo to write a book which is innocent, simple and accessible but also layered, complex, symbolic and spiritual.  I sped through the short chapters, listening to Raymie's plaintive voice throughout, reaching for something she cannot name and feeling her soul rise and fall with each triumph and loss.  At ten, the character is at a magical age where she is still a child, but a growing awareness of the world is beginning to intrude.  It all actually ties together, but it isn't what you might expect.  A gentle, refreshing, quiet book which will make you think.  Brava.

"It Ain't So Awful, Falafel" by Firoozeh Dumas

Sigh.  Here we go.  Again.  Another "fictionalized memoir".  As readers know, I don't like these.  An author who writes a fictionalized version of themselves in a teen book does everything a good writer should not.  The events are idealized, the plot pat, the characters two-dimensional.  And so it is with this book.  Zomorod, a sixth grade Iranian transplant to Newport Beach in 1978, wants to be American so badly that she tells everyone her name is Cindy -- like Cindy Brady.  She is embarrassed by her parents, her culture, the family's poverty, and this is the overriding theme for 300 of the 377 pages.  She whines.  And whines.  She doesn't get the puka shell necklace she wants, and she whines.  Not much happens, with each chapter being a little vignette of Cindy/Zomorod's life as time passes.  The Iranian revolution, under Khomeni, is just irritating at first, as it draws attention to Cindy/Zomorod's differences.  Eventually, we get a teensy bit of character growth.  People start being mean to the family because they are Iranian, and Cindy/Zomorod tunes into the fact that she is lucky to have her family, and grateful that things (of course) work out okay.  Young girls will love the book.  It's a fun, shallow read and reflects all the desires of your average middle school student to fit in and make friends, but "real" didn't even cross my mind while reading it.  If you want a "real" book about a young girl dealing with the struggles of Iran in the late 1970s, read Marjane Satrapi's "Persepolis."

PS -- Odd note here.  Ms. Dumas spells out her parent's speech phonetically throughout the book, highlighting their accents.  If anyone else did this, they would get called on for stereotyping or worse.  Why is it that people from a given culture are allowed to diss that culture?  Sorry, this one doesn't go into my file of "diverse books".

"My Life With the Liars" by Caela Carter

In your average YA novel, the parents are either absent or evil, and the teen protagonist has to learn to rise above and find a way out.  This book turns that narrative on its head, with Zylynn, an "almost 13 year old" starting out with a great family -- one she rejects at every turn, since they took her away from her home, a limited existence in an Arizona cult.  Told in first person narrative, Zylynn's voice is strong and compelling.  Her natural confusion at a world turned upside down is aching for the reader, and gave the book a page-turning quotient.  I read the whole thing in one day, hoping that Zylynn would learn to accept the love and healing directed at her.  Think the story is improbable?  Think again.  Look at recent news stories of failed attempts by the US Government to remove children in a very similar compound.  The lines between religious freedom and child protection are fragile, and sadly, they allow many children like the fictional Zylynn to be abused.  This isn't a dark tale, however, it is one of promise, and of family.  Enjoy.

"A Chance in the World: An Orphan Boy, A Mysterious Past, and How He Found a Place Called Home" by Steve Pemberton

Another one of those memoirs about a horrific childhood, this one is both well-written and engaging.  A video of Mr. Pemberton speaking (http://frontrow.bc.edu/program/pemberton/) illustrates an interesting point ... the abuse he suffered as a child in the foster care system isn't actually his main story.  For him, as a biracial child with no knowledge of his past, the more compelling part of his personal narrative was to find out where he belonged.  The answers, which take up the second half of the book, are more complex than he ever imagined.  In an era where we talk a lot about "resilience" this is a story of a young man who had his focus on the right things.  He was determined and a survivor.  The tale unfolds with a certain amount of humbleness.  Mr. Pemberton realizes, along his path, that he was "graced" in some ways that those around him were not.  In the end, one might say he finds home within himself. 


While satisfying and a good read, I have some minor bones to pick.  The publisher is the Christian publishing arm of HarperCollins, and, while it is not an evangelical novel, in the final chapters there is a significant emphasis on God, and that may make some readers somewhat uncomfortable.  Also, even though it is a major publisher, the quality of the book is poor -- the pages thin, the typeface old-school.  Editing, also, could be improved, as there are occasional jumps from chapter to chapter, a break in flow that seems clunky. 


All that being said, this was another one of those books which was a difficult read on a personal level, as I recognized much of what he said, having experiences similar, at times, to his.  Unhappy homes are far more frequent than many think.  A book like this does what I always wanted to do as an adult -- it lets people who live through this know they are not alone. 

"The Red Pencil" by Andrea Davis Pinkney, Illustrated by Shane W. Evans

This powerful verse novel is evocative of both "Caminar" and "Sold", with a young child in a different culture growing up in a simple, gentle world, then that is ripped away by various circumstances.  In this case, author Pinkney chronicles the genocide of Darfur in southern Sudan in 2003 and 2004.  The poems are delicious and flow beautifully from one to another.  Ms. Pinkney's ability to capture everyday life is obvious from the get-go in a couplet from one of the first pieces: "Words flap from her/like giddy chickens escaping their pen."  Later in the book, the images and words mingle to create a strong feeling of grief as Amira's world collapses.  The images, too, are smart, in that they are not overdrawn.  The idea is that these pictures are ones created by Amira, not a professional artist, and they help to convey her tale without overwhelming the story.  Like in "Caminar" the words begin to fall apart, drifting away from each other, as war enters the village of the young girl.  Amira is hugely dimensional, and it is in this that she jumps off the page as a real person, even though she is a fiction.  It was a lovely book, and one that would have had me reaching for tissues if I hadn't been reading it in public (the "Sudan Flowers" are, in actuality, plastic garbage bags -- which is heart-wrenching in the telling of it), but there was one thing that bugged, a bit.  The ending was abrupt, and circumspect.  It came in a matter of pages and I can't tell you exactly what it meant, or what happened.  Aside from this, the book is a treasure which should touch students who read it, and Ms. Pinkney is successful, I think, in her stated goal of helping kids understand this tragedy without overwhelming them.  The afterword and notes are very helpful to those who wish to learn more about the story, and this culture.  A "human", touching tale, overall.

"Leviathan" by Scott Westerfeld

Because this is Westerfeld, it is awesome, because he is awesome.  This also may be one of the best of his works I have read (Uglies, Peeps).  But.  It can be hard to get into, and it takes a certain commitment.  Here's the thing -- Scott Westerfeld has created this incredible Steampunk/alternative history version of World War I.  At first, I was like, "WHAT is going on?" but then, as I pushed into it, I started getting it.  Reading the afterward before the book -- not a bad idea, as it gives you some context, and my WWI knowledge was a tad rusty.  But that ain't all.  Westerfeld includes Evolutionary Science, Feminism, a drop of sea-faring adventure, along with warcraft technology, in this complex, layered novel.  As an American, his "dialect English" for one of the main characters was so accurate I had to double-check to see if he really, really wasn't born in the UK.  Westerfeld's writing ability is always strong -- his work is rich, lyric and very visual, but here, his world-building is exquisite.  Nearly everything in this wild tale, told in alternating chapters by two protagonists, is alien.  It got better when I just kind of let go and accepted all the ideas coming at me which I wasn't wholly familiar with (and thank goodness for the detailed and lovely pencil drawings throughout).  Eventually, it all made sense, although it did have me scrambling for Wikipedia to look stuff up by the end.  The first of a trilogy, you WILL want to read the next two.  As far as I am concerned, this guy can't write a bad book.

"Ten Things I Hate About Me" by Randa Abdel-Fattah

You might want to hate this book.  It features the typical whiny teen girl who puts popularity and self-preservation over being real and being honest.  The plot turns are (mostly) predictable and you can't wait for her to figure out what you, the readers, realize early on.  But ... this novel is more complex than it seems, and Jamilah is written so realistically that she feels like you could reach through the pages and talk with her.  Her struggle -- between "faking it" as a run of the mill Australian tenth grader and owning up to her Lebanese Muslim culture, in a country struggling with diversity and stereotypes, resounds as if it were America today.  Jamilah sees her father as a tyrant, but she loves him, and (bless Mrs. Abdel-Fattah) her dad is drawn with dimensions which take the entire book to discover.  The whole family unit is strong, and brings surprises -- her rebellious brother isn't a complete turd, and her activist sister makes a choice you don't see coming.  The book challenges preconceptions about the Muslim faith and makes clear that living as a first generation immigrant in any nation can create a sense of dualism.  There is a boy (of course) and while some of that goes the way I thought it would, some does not.  The ending is both predictable yet refreshing, as Jamilah has to decide whether to own her true self or the bleached blonde persona she has fabricated.  It was a story I thoroughly enjoyed, and one I chose to pick up and read whenever I had a free minute.  Now, if we could only get certain national leaders to understand the concepts layered in this delightful YA novel.  Brava, Randa. 

"Because of Mr. Terupt" by Rob Buyea

This fast-read school tale rings about 90% true and has the kind of rich characters students will like, and identify with.  Mr. Buyea does a great job of getting inside the head of 5th graders and makes almost all of these children feel like they can leap off the page.  Told in very short chapters -- reflections from the different students -- this is the tale of a group of kids who get a new teacher, a teacher who has embraced the idea of Personalized Learning!  The connections and dynamics play well in "Part One".  My challenges came with two aspects of the book:  The bully and the crisis.  As to the bully, that was the only voice I didn't buy for a good long time.  The bully delighted in tormenting others.  Here's my guess -- bullies don't see themselves as bullies.  I suspect that their inner motivation is complex, and has something to do with a need to control.  In any case, that didn't work for me, although it did get better by the end, sort-of.  The other issue which nagged was the climax.  It was an event predicted by the foreword, written by John Irving (John Irving!  John Irving!  What is he doing writing a foreword to a YA novel???)  In any case, don't read the foreword, as it is a spoiler, to some degree.  In any case, the big event felt too structured, too deliberate.  Bad things do happen, but it is the randomness with which they happen that often makes them hard to take.  In this case, it felt like the author really had to have things fall out in a very specific way to lead his characters to an ending that he wanted.  I don't particularly like overly crafted resolutions.  For me, books are more enjoyable when they just unfold, and one has a sense the author simply let the story go where it was going to go.  In any case, despite the two things that jumped out at me, it was a great little book, and one that I did enjoy.  For those who really like it, there is a sequel, with a preview in the eBook version I read.  Go for it.

"Tapping the Power of Personalized Learning: A Roadmap for School Leaders" by James Rickabaugh



A fairly typical educational theory book, it's not bad, but it isn't fabulous.  It follows the very typical pattern -- identifying the current educational landscape as problematic, short testimonials about how change is good, a theory, a diagram, a distilling of the parts of the new proposal (which isn't actually that new).  There are lots of little nuggets worth taking away and I agree with the idea of personalized learning, but the book is best read in short bursts.  It is nicely succinct at less than 140 pages, and not particularly dry, but it is not hugely engaging, and takes the concept of "informational" to heart.  I found myself reading and re-reading sections because my mind wandered when I read it.  Having attended a school in the 1970s which was exactly this (students proposing independent research projects and activities to teachers to explore the given curriculum) I feel like I am watching the pendulum swing back again.  Is this a good book to get an overview of the latest undulation in education?  Sure.  It's clear, to the point, and has lots of quotes which can be used in Powerpoint presentations.  Is it the kind of book I'm constantly referring to over the next few months?  Not so much, but it is rare to find that kind of book in this kind of subject matter (see my review of Meeting Wise). 

 

 

 

"Out of My Mind" by Sharon Draper

Once again, I find myself strongly disliking a popular title with good reviews.  Ah well.  Variety (of opinion) is the spice of life.  From the get-go, this book about Melody, an 11 year-old with Cerebral Palsy who is brilliant but nonverbal, reminded me of another book -- "Stuck in Neutral" by Terry Trueman.  In that book, Mr. Trueman created a fictionalized version of his son's inner life -- his son also being a young man with special needs who is nonverbal.  As readers of my blog know, I take real issue when authors attempt to fictionalize their lives, as it often comes off as unrealistic, painting a rosy picture, and glossing over the bumps that go with actual living.  In the case of Mr. Trueman, I couldn't help but wonder if the whole thing wasn't an exercise in wish fulfillment.  In the case of "Out of My Mind", Ms. Draper's writing is far better -- because, well, she's Sharon Draper, and her writing is typically excellent.  My issue with the book is that I didn't feel this was Melody's voice -- it was Ms. Draper's.  Melody beats the odds (significantly, if you look it up) by being someone with Cerebral Palsy who is both nonverbal and brilliant (early on, it is indicated she also has an eidetic memory -- something generally seen in only 2-10% of the the population of kids under 12).  The book doesn't come off as preachy, but it isn't subtle in its messaging, and the observations of Melody sound completely like an adult's version of events, not an 11 year-old, no matter how bright she is.  The story is overly perky in many spots.  I counted 14 exclamation points over one two-page spread.  The sugary build-up to the climax was also "too much" for me.  There are Afterschool Special moments when everything looks like it is about to come to a super-shiny happy conclusion, and then that whips around 180 in a way that makes the ending seem jarring and rushed.  So, in other words, hated it.  Sorry.  A group of kids told me how wwwoooonnnnderfuuuulll it was, so I will defer to them.  As to me, I'll stick with Ms. Draper's other (superior) books (IMHO), such as Copper Sun and Tears of a Tiger.  I just wish, at some point, an author would write the story of the other kids in Melody's Special Ed classroom.  The ones who do have deficits, and yet still live in the world, looking for their place.

"Mosquitoland" by David Arnold

I had the privilege of seeing David Arnold speak with a group of 8th graders recently, and was intrigued by his humor, insight, and obvious smarts.  It was just luck that I happened upon his first book shortly thereafter.  "Mosquitoland" is vaguely reminiscent of Libba Bray's "Going Bovine" and Sharon Creech's "The Wanderer".  It is a travel tale, where the journey is both internal and external.  Written for mature audiences, the free-form flow of prose streams forth from Mim, our protagonist, a 16 year-old girl who is very much a 16 year-old girl.  I really (really, really) love that Mr. Arnold writes her without apology.  She is smart and strong and judgmental and typically all over the place with her emotions.  She doesn't really know who she is, given that her world-view is often limited to the space inside her head.  The journey here opens her eyes to the greater community, and her place in it.  The text is dense, and my "lunch reading" did not suffice.  I found I needed to sit at home, quietly, to absorb it all.  Context is sometimes missing -- intentionally, as the reader is undoubtedly supposed to be in the moment and enjoy the ride, rather than figure it all out at the beginning.  I like Mim, including her faults, and felt as endeared to the characters she comes across as she does.  None of the characters are black and white, a fact that she learns to appreciate throughout the book.  I read the digital version, so not sure if the print includes all the extras, but a series of extras, including an interview with the author, associated music and discussion questions, are worth the read, as is the teaser for his next book, "Kids of Appetite".  Definitely a strong addition to our growing canon of YA authors who don't dumb it down one little bit.  This author is one to watch.

"A Snicker of Magic" by Natalie Lloyd

Awww.  So sweet (and that is not actually a pun, despite the constant reference to ice cream in the book).  Frequently compared to "A Tangle of Knots" this story is actually quite different, but I understand the connections.  There is the syllabic similarity in the titles, a close color scheme in the cover art, and both are solidly "nice" with a nod to magical realism.  That is pretty much where it ends.  "A Snicker of Magic" is an Appalachian tale, pure and simple.  It's got weather, music, colorful legends, unique personalities and a kind of poetic lilt you only hear in a mountain story.  Days are hot, nights are cold, and the setting is a palpable character in and of itself.  Felicity Pickle, our heroine, sees words (think Synesthesia, but more mystical).  She collects them to use as an anchor to keep her heart in one piece as her mother drives the small family around from place to place, never settling down very long  For reasons Felicity doesn't understand, Momma comes "home again" to Midnight Gulch, Tennessee, crashing on the couch with kin until the late summer storms awaken her wandering heart.  In the meantime, Felicity begins to gather clues about herself and her family, coming across a cute boy (Jonah) a mysterious elder (Oliver), a poet (Florentine) and a lot of stories, woven like a quilt around the people of Midnight Gulch.  One thing I really liked was the blend of joy and sadness, making it clear that life isn't so much one thing as it is all things (Spoiler alert -- yes, the dog lives -- nothing bad happens to it).  This was an engaging and fast read, one I would recommend, and one which is likely to have wide appeal.  Most of it is delightful.  I was a tad disappointed that the school only appears in the beginning and end, seemingly inconsequential and nothing more than a device to forward plot points, but other than that, the book "sings."  Complex and simple, a free-flowing, experiential story, I was quite satisfied with it (although hungry ... ice cream is consumed in massive quantities).  Much of it is metaphorical and allusion, but astute readers shouldn't have any trouble seeing its heart.  I'd say two thumbs up, but one hand is reaching for a tub of Chubby Hubby ...

"Meeting Wise: Making the Most of Collaborative Time for Educators" by Kathryn Parker Boudett and Elizabeth A. City

"One of those books" -- a dry, business tome for administrators, this is not.  Boudett and City (who also wrote "Data Wise") got a shout-out from me in the very beginning, for the breezy, fun notes in the Intro about how the book could be read in "determined stints on an exercise bike".  That was quickly followed by an allusion to "Wrinkle in Time" in the first chapter.  Finally, in the end, there is a reference to sitting in a meeting "ordering socks" on your cellphone.  I laughed out loud.  I've never encountered a book of this type that was so real, so accurate, and so "human." Not only a fast read, but very digestable, with takeaways I already plan to use in my meeting planning.  It was short, clear, to the point, had the focus on the right spot -- it was simply terrific.  And I have honestly never said that about a work tome.  I wanted to lend it to half the people in my working group, but I've placed sticky notes on so many sections I don't want to part with it.  Bottom line -- meetings shouldn't be about one-directional input.  It's a revolutionary idea that every one of us who sit in those kinds of meetings knows.  It took these two women to show how a productive meeting can be so much more.

"Orbiting Jupiter" by Gary D. Schmidt

This is the third Gary Schmidt book I have read, and the third one I have really, really liked.  All three were different but have a literary quality which draws you in.  Mr. Schmidt is a true wordsmith -- writing the stories he needs to write, making them all accessible yet lyric, simple yet complex.  There is something truly intangible in how he is able to make every story seem real and personal, not to mention creating characters you want to reach out and hug through the pages.  In this story, sixth grade farm-boy Jack gets an eighth grade foster brother named Joseph.  (The name, by the way, is not accidental.  I suspect a biblical connection, although the reference is subtle, at best.)  Joseph has had a hard time of it.  Gary Schmidt often touches on abuse in his books, but does so with a light pen.  The point is made for the older readers in a way which younger readers may miss, but that's okay.  It's part of the whole style.  Take this passage -- elegant in its clarity:  "During the day, the air glistened with hovering ice.  At night, the stars were razor sharp.  At dawn, the sunlight went straight up in a hazy column.  And sunset closed the day with a quick wink."  It is this kind of depth which makes his books so brilliant and universally appreciated.  This novel, a selection in "March Book Madness" last year, was hugely popular with the many Middle School students who read it.  This is good to know, as I would have suspected the emphasis on rural New England life might not appeal to the urban set we have here.  Obviously, "the story" shines through, even if the experience is different from what students here are familiar with.

SPOILER ALERT

While Mr. Schmidt's stories often have a dark thread, this one ends on a truly devastating note.  I always struggle with endings like this.  On one hand, you kind of see it coming, on the other, you hope against hope that it "goes another way."  Jacqueline Woodson once said that she writes the endings she has to write, because the characters and the narrative give her no other choice.  So it is, I believe, with Gary Schmidt and this tale.  While hugely sad, it did come off as genuine, and, given the space allusions in the story, a kind of way that the universe works sometimes. 

Once again, Bravo.  Another powerful novel by a skilled writer.

"I Will Always Write Back: How One Letter Changed Two Lives" by Martin Ganda and Caitlin Alifirenka with Liz Welch

Have you ever finished a book and just held it to your heart?  Well, this was "one of those" for me.  Besides being a terrific story, this did exactly what I have been railing about for months -- kept a real story real.  Caitlin is a young girl not particularly thrilled with school when her teacher asks for volunteers to write to pen-pals in different parts of the world.  Caitlin picks Zimbabwe because the name sounds interesting.  The recipient of her letter?  A boy named Martin Ganda, who is at the top of his class in his very impoverished corner of the world.  What follows is a two person narrative about their lives over the years, showing not only how their friendship grew, but what their worlds were comprised of.  Understanding each other gave Martin, and his whole family, a way "out" of a difficult existence.  For Caitlin, her world-view exploded upon realizing that her existence was privileged in comparison to children of some other nations.  The story is NOT fictionalized.  It's the recollections of Caitlin and Martin as unvarnished as possible.  The narrative includes all the warts and realities which accompany an actual biography or memoir.  Caitlin doesn't shy away from discussing a somewhat shallow focus on the social aspects of her teen years and a boyfriend who didn't measure up.  Martin is honest about the abject poverty in his war-torn nation and cultural aspects of his life (like the relationship between his parents) which might make some readers shake their heads.  In a fiction book, some of this would have been glossed over.  Here, without getting into gritty details, the facts are laid out in a way which most kids will "get".  Things do turn out okay, but this is a story with shadings, not black and white.  Young people will understand the story, older people will feel the nuances.  It is powerful, joyous and sad, all at once.  Four hankies by the end.  Bravo, Brava, to Martin and Caitlin, with a significant tip of the rabbit ears to Ms. Welch, for telling it "like it is."

"Fish in a Tree" by Lynda Mullaly Hunt

Flashback, 1970s.  Ally can't read, doesn't have friends, and hates school.  She falls in with other oddballs, Keisha, the only black girl in the class, and Albert, who is obsessed with Star Trek, the original series.  The problem with this problem novel?  It's not set in the 1970s.  The true problem?  This is yet another one of those books where the author is exercising some personal demons by writing a "fictional" novel which is clearly autobiographical (which Ms. Hunt openly admits to in the end-notes).  This is a personal beef, but I really dislike it when real life is disguised as fiction.  In my mind, it creates stories which are flat, or idealized, or simply unrealistic.  "Fish in a Tree" hit the trifecta.  First, it goes through chapter after chapter of Ally, the main character, feeling awful.  At first, you want to have sympathy, but after a while, I really wanted the story to move forward (at 266 pages, it is far longer, IMHO, than it needs to be).  The mean girls are mean, the oddball kids are odd, but there is little fleshing out -- the author may have seen these characters in her mind because she experienced them, but it didn't translate onto the page.  Shay, the ultimate mean girl, has all the dimension of a mustachioed villain from a 1920s silent film.  Or any character from a CW TV show.  The one Asian character, Suki, is as stereotypical as it comes, right down to "honoring Grandfather" and her pigeon English.  The ending is all flower and roses, like any after-school special from 1973 -- everything works out just great and goodness wins.  The biggest distraction for me, however, was the setting.  There are brief references to technology -- information is occasionally Googled and, in the end, Dad is Skyped, but by and large, this didn't feel like a contemporary story.  No one has a cellphone and cyberbullying doesn't make any kind of showing.  There is Albert's obsession -- it's hard to believe a kid with few resources would know of Star Trek, the original series, much less be watching it on television (as a confirmed Trekkie, I can promise you it only came back to cable very, very recently, thanks to the new films, and would be hard to find in a small-town setting) and the whole school structure seems dated.  A kid shows up with bruises every day and Social Services isn't called immediately?  Lastly, every mention of Albert's black t-shirt with white lettering saying "Flint" confused me.  He explains it as a Star Trek reference, and it is eventually used as as a Science gag, but how could you have a character in 2016 wear a shirt like that and not be referencing Flint, Michigan, and the racial struggles epitomized there?

Here is what I wish -- that Ms. Hunt, Mr. Gantos, and all the other authors who have written these pseudo fiction tales would just own up and write a real memoir -- for kids.  Who says that young people can only digest a story if it is fictionalized?  Who says young people can't understand the power of a personal narrative when it comes to life struggles?  The issues Dyslexic kids face is very real, and haven't we learned that being open and honest with people is the best way to tell a story?  This is another one of those books written for adults, who, with our bleeding hearts, will hand it out to every kid we think "needs" it.  Sadly, most of those kids who might benefit from the story won't be able to read this lengthy tome.  Maybe next time, authors like this can write something real.

"The Terrible Two" by Jory John and Mac Barnett, illustrated by Kevin Cornell

What an absolute blast to read this fun, smart, unexpected book!  A real refresher after some long/serious stuff.  It is easy to see why kids are flocking to this title, by popular author Mac Barnett and up-and-comer Jory John (author of "All My Friends are Dead" books).  The tale of a prankster who is out-pranked by a mysterious visionary when he transfers schools, the kids here take on Peanuts-like personas with very adult reflections on the world around them.  It works.  The humor functions on all levels, from laugh-out-loud to more subtle snickering.  The drawings add to the Charlie Brown-esque feeling of our protagonist, Miles Murphy.  The cows were a constant giggle.  A definite winner.  Read, smile, enjoy.

"All American Boys" by Jason Reynolds and Brandan Kiely

McCormick's "Sold" may have been devastating to read, but this one was viscerally painful -- getting inside the head of a young black man beaten by a police officer.  While Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely may have known how topical their award-winning book would be as they were writing it, the impact of the story in yet another summer of police shootings of black men was stunning as a read.  Taking place in a ubiquitous "Springfield, USA" we have the tale of two high school students.  One is Rashad, a black ROTC kid with a stern father.  He goes into a store to buy some chips before heading to a party, collides with a white woman and is beaten by a police officer who believes he was trying to steal from the store and assaulted the woman.  The other is Quinn, a white basketball player whose military father died in service, heading to the same party, when he sees the cop pounding Rashad into the pavement.  Problem -- the cop is the older brother of Quinn's best friend, and has been a mentor to Quinn after his father's death.  Told in alternating chapters, with each section being a day in a single week, the changing perspectives bring the entire national conversation front and center, covering all perspectives.  In the case of Rashad, this works.  His tale is personal, real, and far more complex than I ever imagined.  For instance, it never occured to me that members of black families might have different takes on an incident like this, or that the victims of police brutality might feel, well, like victims -- ashamed and embarrassed.  In the case of Quinn, however, the book stumbles a bit.  Quinn's "voice" is not consistent.  At times, he reads like an uneducated hick, and other times, he comes off as erudite.  The author voice is clearly inserted from time to time to "make a point" which is a huge pet peeve for me.  On the other hand, Quinn's swings may be part of the teenage male mind.  Having no idea what may be in a teenage male mind (or a few adult male minds) I tried to give Mr. Kiely credit that this is a young man trying to make sense of something which is very hard to make sense of.  The one big regret I had with the story was that Rashad creates a piece of art to work through his pain.  While it is well described, words do not do justice to art, and I would have liked to see a finished version of what Mr. Reynolds had in mind.

This story is black and white (no pun intended).  Rashad is a good kid, he is unarmed, he is not guilty of what he is accused of.  Did he resist?  Unclear, but unimportant.  It is made obvious that the police officer continues to beat him long after he is capable of resisting.  Unfortunately, many of the incidents which have captured national attention are less clear-cut, making the ongoing conversation in our society critical.  This book has the ability to start that conversation, if we are brave enough to have it.  Another new thing I have become aware of in the past month?  The "conversation" that black parents must have with their black sons regarding what to do when stopped by police.  What an awful lesson to learn as a child.  In a clear, plaintive, and resonating voice, this novel successfully asks the question -- why can't everyone be "All American Boys" regardless of skin color?

"Winter" by Marissa Meyer

Ahh -- the delightful sense of "something" when you finish a series -- particularly when it takes FOREVER for the final book to come out.  I read a lot of "first book in the series" as part of my job, but this was a series which had me reading the whole thing.  That's a good sign.  As mentioned in previous reviews, Ms. Meyer did an outstanding job of world-building in this SciFi/Action/Romance twist on Fairy Tales.  The "Lunar Chronicles" series is inventive, fresh yet familiar, fun and engaging.  This final book, at 823 pages, seemed overwhelming, but, like J.K. Rowling, she writes in an accessible, friendly way, which can draw you in.  The short chapters and changing perspectives had me careening through the novel much faster than expected. 

I sometimes tell people they don't have to read certain series books in order.  That's not the case here, where the back-stories of our previous heroines (Cinder, Scarlet and Cress) weave very heavily into the stories of the new characters, centered around Winter.  Throw in interplanetary war, a ravaging disease and mutants and you have a story which spins from one couple trying desperately to connect to another.  For those afraid of "mush", no need to fear.  The romance is there, but it is more spare than I expected.  This is about battles, and more battles.  There is lots of blood (real and imagined, but for that, you have to read the book).  Even the ending, which is satisfying, didn't exactly wrap up the way I expected, given the fairy-tale underpinnings of the whole thing.  Nonetheless, it was a terrific conclusion to a series which became far more epic and complex than I ever expected when reading "Cinder", the tale of a cyborg Cinderella.  A great escape from a hot summer day, I curled up all day on a Sunday and plowed through half of it.  Enjoy. 

"Start With Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action" by Simon Sinek

First and foremost, this isn't so much a book about leadership as it is a book about marketing.  And, much like the fictional Don Draper, Sinek claims that the greatest leaders are charismatic "vision guys" who inspire.  I couldn't disagree more.  In my mind, good leaders create organizations which can exist beyond their leader.  Sinek highlights corporations which only succeed with one person at the helm. 

The book is dated, hugely repetitive, and highly questionable in its conclusions.  Full of worn aphorisms about Apple, the Wright Brothers, Martin Luther King, Jr., with simplified, dumbed-down (to the point of just being wrong) examples, the whole thing reads like those sickening motivational posters one finds in bland office complexes.  Sinek states (over and over and over and over again) that money making corporations don't do best when they focus on the money, but when they focus on the philosophical goals -- like "changing the world".  He waxes on throughout the book about how wonderful Apple is because it challenged the status quo.  Like any Mac lover who has drunk the Koolaid, he has basically written a book which could be subtitled "Apple, its the best thing ever, and here are 200 pages of text telling you why."  (I did find it hysterical that with all of his Apple genuflecting, he still felt the need to correct the corporation's grammar -- according to Sinek, Apple "thinks differently" instead "Think Different") 

Written in 2009, some of Sinek's proclamations about success no longer hold true.  There have been a plethora of economic impacts which have vastly changed the business landscape in the past seven years, making many of Sinek's points, well, out of touch.  The housing market melt-down?  Not mentioned. The oil crisis impact on airlines?  Happened after publication.  Social media, online shopping?  Nada.  Even Apple's path has changed, and we have learned a lot (some might say too much) about Steve Jobs' leadership style since 2009. 

The repetition, too, is beyond irritating.  Take this section, from page 120:  "This is because the early majority, according to Rogers, will not try something until someone else has tried it first.  The early majority, indeed the entire majority, need the recommendation of someone else who has already sampled the product or service.  They need to know someone else has tested it."  So, he repeats his point three times in the first paragraph.  And, in case you missed it, from paragraph two, "...the early majority won't try something new until someone else has tried it first."  Yup.  He repeats not only the same idea, but the same phrase, throughout the chapter.  If that wasn't grating enough, the words "WHY" "HOW" and "WHAT" are capitalized throughout, overemphasizing the points, making it clear that the reader is stupid.

Near the end of the book, Sinek refers to the Battle of Agincourt.  Not only does he suggest the absolutely wrong lessons from this historic battle, but it only tangentially connects to what he is talking about in that chapter (maybe he saw the Henry V movie ...).  This kind of thing is evident throughout the book, which reads like so much stream of consciousness.  He leaps from one statement to the other with little supporting evidence, and the evidence he does use is tertiary to his arguments.  On page 218, he makes it clear that this whole idea came from a random conversation with a marketer at a convention, and says the next part of his inspiration was something he, in his own words, "tripped over."  I gagged when he stated that a failing entreprenurial effort left him so depressed he was "beyond suicidal" -- that he realized he would "have to get a job".  Perhaps meant as a joke, it came off as entitlement at its worst.  The final blow came near the end, when he said "I'm not better connected than everyone else.  I don't have a better work ethic.  I don't have an Ivy League education and my grades in college were average.  The funniest part is, I still don't know how to build a business."  Sinek counts himself as a success because he has made money as a motivational speaker.  That's it.  He came up with this flimsy excuse of an idea and managed to market it.  It's the ultimate snake-oil play -- he is a success at nothing other than marketing an idea for marketing.

A quick look around the internet for Simon Sinek, however, leads to to the fact that this book was a best-seller, and that Mr. Sinek is appreciated, if, for nothing else, the TED Talk he did in conjunction with the release of this book.  So as not to be the kid jumping up and down yelling "The Emperor has no clothes", I watched the infamous TED Talk.  For others who hate the book -- this is what you should do.  In 18 minutes, he gives you a summary of everything in the book -- in a far more succinct manner.   

As to the TED Talk?  I can see why it was a hit.  Simon Sinek is young, handsome, earnest and successful (not to mention having a hint of that UK accent every American loves).  I do wonder -- if this talk had been delivered by a middle-aged, overweight woman with a lisp, would it have been nearly as successful?  Sinek denies that the medium is the message, but I'm betting the message coming from him is different than if it were delivered by someone else.  My bottom line?  The only "Why" I came away with was "Why" I had to read this inane book.

"Sold" by Patricia McCormick

This 2008 National Book Award finalist has been on my list for a very, very long time.  A local high school selected it as their number one book this year, which was the impetus to finally get around to it.  A verse novel (blank verse), it was a quick read, but it was not an easy one.  The story is that of Lakshmi, a thirteen year-old girl from a mountain village in Nepal, who thinks she is going to the city as a house-maid to earn money for her impoverished family.  Instead, she is taken across the border to Calcutta, and is kept in a brothel from which there is no escape.  I could have read the book in a single sitting or two, but I spread it out over a week, as I had to "take a break" now and then.  There are not words for how devastating this is.  Lakshmi is a girl with a spark, and that spark is all but put out.  She is a child, and, throughout it all, she craves the things a child would -- a friend, a hug, a kind word, but in the end, there is a part of her which is forever changed.  What makes this especially hard is that Lakshmi is fiction, but her story is not.  End notes say that this happens to some 12,000 Nepalese children a year, and more than 500,000 girls worldwide.  The novel made me ache in much the same way as when I watched the film "Beasts of No Nation".  We know these kinds of things happen in the world -- why can't we stop it?  The difficulty of the subject matter is mitigated, somewhat, by the verse style, and by Lakshmi's spirit.  It is this inner voice which calls to the reader and undoubtably made this a top pick for the students who selected it.  It is what makes this book great.  But seriously, get some kleenex.  Then, find a charity that addresses this horror, and give some money to it.

"Uglies" by Scott Westerfeld

Sometimes, I get to read a book "just for me."  This was one of those times. 

Long before "Hunger Games" and "Divergent", before "Legend" and "Matched" and "Pandemonium", there was a Dystopian series by Scott Westerfeld called "Uglies".  This four book series was so popular when it came out (and for a good number of years afterwards), that I never got a chance to read it.  Like all Dystopian books for the YA market, this one has a fairly predictable outline.  Tally is an "ugly" -- a child in a society which turns kids into "pretties" when they turn 16, using extreme plastic surgery.  There is, of course, an underground that says the surgeries are not what they seem, and Tally gets drawn into the community of rebels living in the deep dark forest away from the city.  So, if the plot seems familiar, what makes one Dystopian tale work, while another seems formulaic?  I'm not 100% sure, but there are a couple of things that drew me to this book, and some of the other Dystopian fiction novels.  First, for me, is character.  Tally isn't your typical revolutionary type.  She wants the surgery (really, really wants it) and spends a huge percentage of the book deeply conflicted.  When she finally does land on one side of the issue, she has made some tragic mistakes.  The flaws are interesting, given that most Dystopian protagonists are super-hero like in their abilities.  Tally, on the other hand, kind of falls into situations.  The second thing for me is twists.  I know what Dystopia is, I know where the book is heading (I could have predicted most of the plot of Mockingjay before I read it) but this book defied expectations.  Every single time I was sure of where it was going, it went someplace a little unexpected.  And I liked that.  The book is action-packed and a page turner.  It takes the hoverboard concept to the next level in some deeply cool ways.  The only aspect I wasn't overly thrilled with was the romantic storyline.  Tally is as gushy and over-the-top as most almost-16 year old girls are, and her love triangle is pretty generic, but it is tinged with a "Romeo and Juliet" level of angst.  I haven't read the other three books, but that analogy is likely to come close to the mark, given the nature of the society in which these characters live.  In the end, I like Westerfeld's writing, and the new covers are notably more creepy than the original ones.  The book is not literary, per se, but it is engaging, lively, accessible and pulls you in.  Bottom line:  This one is a good choice for anyone who hasn't burned out on this overexposed genre.  May the odds be in your favor.

"Listen, Slowly" by Thanhha Lai

There is a saying in acting -- "find the love, find the humor, find the obstacles".  They also say that good actors need to make the stakes big enough to register, regardless of the subject matter.  Think of it as anti-Seinfeld.  The problem with this book is that the stakes just weren't big enough, the obstacles too small, the humor unfunny and the love -- well, one kind of love (familial) was touching, but the boy crush thing was just irritating.  If you are Sharon Creech, you can get away with a story where not much happens (The Wanderer) but that wasn't the case here, IMHO.  The summary:  Mai (goes by Mia) wants to spend the summer on the beach in Laguna, CA with her best friend, crushing on a boy with her boyfriend-stealing-too-skimpy-bikini best friend.  Instead, her parents send her off to Vietnam with Grandma, trying to find out the end of her Grandfather's story from the Vietnam War.  Mai spends 2/3 of the book whining about the situation, then has a fairly predictable epiphany or two, and, without much of a climax, everything is neatly tied up in a bow.  I could have maybe sort-of put up with that if not for other glaring issues.  The descriptions of Vietnam, the culture, the village life ... is all so specific I feel like I learned a lot.  It was kind of like reading a travelogue with a CW TV teen show subtext.  But it just didn't engage me.  The narrative was pretty bland, with very occasional lyric sections.  I haven't read "Inside Out and Back Again" but have to believe Ms. Lai might be better at poetry than prose?  There was also the age issue, which I could have dismissed, but it kept being repeated, over and over and over again.  Mai is supposedly 12 going on 13, and supposedly 6th grade going on 7th grade.  The age and the grades don't match.  Twelve going on 13 is 7th to 8th, and Mai's behavior throughout is not that of a rising 7th grader.  There is this whole thing about getting the girls in the village to turn their panties into G-strings.  It's a spoiler to mention it, but frankly, the entire section was so pointless to the plot that it doesn't matter.  It was, however, one of many parts of the book that rankled -- it just didn't "fit" the character, IMHO.  It was part of an overarching feeling that the author was TRYING TO MAKE A POINT.  Much of the book felt like an adult immigrant looking at her Americanized kid and trying to (unsuccessfully) write from their point of view.  The parents were beyond stereotypical -- mom is a big-deal lawyer and dad is a Doctors Without Borders type.  The whole thing, ironically, didn't feel authentic.  The ~~setting~~ was authentic, but the characters felt like they were being driven by moralistic efforts of the writer rather than being real people.  The one character I loved, and the one with a real story to tell, is Ba (Grandma).  Perhaps, if the tale had been told from her perspective, it would have made more of an impact on me.  As with all things, this is my opinion.  I read the book because several colleagues really enjoyed it -- different strokes when it comes to literature, yes?

"The War That Saved My Life" by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

This multiple award-winning book has a truly lousy cover (old-school, childish) but fortunately, I am not one to judge a book by it's cover.  Hopefully, student readers will be so blinded by the many award stickers that they will overlook the 1952 style imagery.  It was interesting -- a number of colleagues were not wowed by the book.  Others said they disliked the ending.  As to the first, I disagree, as to the second -- well, we will get to that.  Set in 1939, England, this is the story of Ada and her brother Jamie, who go to the countryside to avoid the possible bombing of London as World War II begins.  The war referred to in the title, however, is not the one you think it is.  Ada is a child abused -- horribly.  It is not until her life takes this drastic change that she begins to understand what was denied to her.  It is this subtle underpinning to the novel which made it so powerful to me.  Perhaps those who grew up in happy households don't get it.  They don't understand what it is like to be a child in a miserable situation and not realize that they are in a miserable situation.  They don't know what it is like to be out in a beautiful world when you have seen ugliness, how it can be incredibly hard to trust the good, because it is hard to trust anything or anyone.  Ada's journey was, to me, very realistic and sharply painful, but there is hope in this tale -- a lot of it.  Much like "Becoming Mary Mehan" this is a story arc where a girl finds life again, and, after a long slow road, learns to embrace it.  The book is also like "The Night Gardener", sans the horror aspect, as Ada and Jamie enter a broken household and help to make it whole.  The gentle, quiet way that their caretaker's past is revealed is both appropriate and touching.  My criticisms are few -- there was a reference to Queen Elizabeth at a point where Elizabeth II was still a princess, and there is a reference to "occupied France" before France is actually occupied.  Minor.  As to the ending ... well???  It was rushed, convenient, pat, and left a lot, and I do mean a lot, of unanswered questions.  It's as if Ms. Bradley got to the last three or four chapters and said "I have to end this" so she just tried to wrap the whole thing up in a neat bow.  After too many Dystopia novels, a less than awful ending was kind of nice, but it didn't ring true to the rest of the story.  And, while I am really, really sick of reading one series after another, a follow-up to this tale might not be a bad idea.  Bottom line?  This was a book I stayed up after my bedtime to finish reading, and I haven't done that in a very, very long time.

"I am Princess X" by Cherie Priest, illustrated by Kali Ciesemier

There's a lot to like in this unsual book, and a couple of things I didn't care for.  Here's the rundown: The cover and opening of the tale made me think "middle school" but the book takes a turn or three that left me thinking high school readers would enjoy it as well.  At first, I was thinking another "The Thing About Jellyfish" with a young best friend/classmate dying, but then the book went in a very different direction than expected, gets a bit darker, and focuses on a group of characters mostly in their late teens.  I liked that the plot was "unexpected" and the inclusion of graphic novel style art.  I liked the integration of technology as part of a mystery/adventure (at times it was like a PG version of "Mr. Robot", the USA show).  I liked that the characters were a reflection of "today" in their diversity and that the diversity was just a natural part of the story, without being "A POINT".  The book moved well and is well-written without being particularly lyric and I loved, loved, loved that this is a stand-alone and not part of a series.  Dialog felt real and descriptions of settings were strong.  Character descriptions, however, were ... ?  This is where my "not so much" list comes in.  The big issue was that I liked May's tenacity and spirit, and we are given a good Linkedin version of her life, but I still didn't feel like I knew her.  Is she a good student or bad?  A shy girl or a party animal?  A jock, a geek?  Is she attracted to the mysterious computer guy she comes across?  I read the entire thing and I can't honestly answer any of these questions.  While her actions are clear, her inner life is sometimes murky.  In some ways, the other characters suffer from this as well.  Their physicality and behaviors are outlined, but what makes them tick is missing.  My other big beef was the various turns in the book require increasing levels of "willing suspension of disbelief".  At first, it's a little, then more, then an almost ludicrous level of "this would never happen".  I started doing with this book what I did with "Au Revoir, Crazy European Chick".  I just let myself ride the wave of fun and crazy and didn't think real hard about the plausibility issues.  Quite frankly, Veronica Mars, a favorite detective show, also stretched the boundaries a good bit, but if you can like the characters, you can enjoy unpacking the clues.  A good, quick ride which will appeal to far more readers than you might expect.

"The Fourteenth Goldfish" by Jennifer L. Holm

Throw in the magical realism from "Crenshaw" and the Middle School coming-of-age story from "The Truth About Jellyfish" and you have a fun tale of a girl, a grandpa and an experiment which goes wrong -- or right, depending on your point of view.  For a simple book (it was actually on a lower reading level than I expected), there is a lot of symbolism and metaphor here.  The title is a good example, as it begins and ends the story, but is more about what it represents than a significant part of the action.  The plot is easy to get, but has layers.  The main character, Ellie, is betwixt and between in many ways.  She needs to find her role as a non-dramatic person in a dramatic family and she wants to understand how friendships change as you enter the sixth grade.  The book is a page-turner with big print, wide margins and chapters which last only a few pages.  In short, it's a very accessible story which has been enjoyed by a wide variety of kids.  With a little of everything (mystery, humor, romance, adventure) and not too much of anything, it is neither preachy nor pedantic.  The vocabularly and sentence structure, not to mention the funny bits, make it very Elementary appropriate, but there is extremely subtle subtext which made it equally enjoyable as an adult reader.  Threads about aging, the differences between the generations, loss and the modern family structure are only part of the scenarios explored.  A quick read delight.  Highly recommended.

"Gone Fishing: A Novel in Verse" by Tamera Will Wissinger, Illustrated by Matthew Cordell

A simple little book, this one has become popular for teaching poetic form, but I'm not sure that it will have general appeal beyond the classroom.  It is a cute story which had me giggling a little -- a boy is going fishing with his dad and the younger sister horns in -- but it struggles a bit.  One one hand, the author seems to be trying ~~really hard~~ to be didactic, on the other hand, she simplifies everything so much that the tale is a bit too sparse and the narrative structure of the story suffers.  The problems come and go quickly with the climax being not so much of a climax.  The meter is off in at least one poem and the descriptors at the back of the book are either too dumbed down to be exact or too specific and will go over the heads of the readers the book is targeted to.  Don't get me wrong -- the story is short, sweet, and might make for a nice share (or even act-out), but I read it in under 20 minutes and came away only with the question of how many kids in my urban area would appreciate the nuances of a fishing trip.  Artwork is great but dated.  Felt more like a New Yorker cartoon than a children's book.  Not bad, but not one to write home about (in poetry or prose).

"Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children" by Ransom Riggs

This is an odd little book.  For years, I had it in a library for 6th to 12th graders, and just assumed from the cover and the little print that it was for High School.  It also showed up on the NY Times Bestseller list.  Not for kids.  But then, my Middle School students were checking it out ... a lot!  So, when I couldn't sleep one night recently, I finally started to read it.  On one hand, it's not nearly as creepy as I thought, on the other hand, it does have an element of freaky and a dash of horror, although I found the horror elements to be light (and I'm a total baby, so if I wasn't too scared, it can't be that bad).  It's kind of like "Harry Potter meets a teen version of a horror story".  Don't want to give too much of the plot away, but it is an interesting spin.  Ransom Riggs is a filmmaker, not necessarily a writer for youth.  He is fascinated with the visual image, and collected/found a large number of older photographs, many from the turn of the last century -- a time when photography was new and mysticism was extremely popular.  Mix a strong belief in the supernatural with the curiousity of budding photographers and you get a lot of pictures which are clearly manipulated, and only slightly odd.  Riggs took these photos and wove them into a narrative, doing some pretty impressive world-building along the way.  Yes, there are criticisms.  The lead character reads young.  Some of the editing is sloppy (at one point there are kids hiding under some stairs yet climbing that the same time) and an argument can be made that the narrative is stretched to wrap around the photos -- some of the photos he tries to pull together for a lead character don't actually look like the same person.  Overall, however, I was willing to forgive these minor transgressions for a tale which is whimsical, and, while drawing on some classic archetypes, is creative and fresh.  I couldn't predict where it was going to go, and I always like that.  Bottom line is that it was enjoyable, page-turning, and not what I expected.  Which is always a good thing.  (PS Coming to a Theatre Near You -- and likely to be much scarier in a darkened room)

"Crenshaw" by Katherine Applegate

In most cases, this would echo those awful 1970s "problem novels" written for YOUNG PEOPLE and would be preachy and didactic.  Katherine Applegate avoids that by dealing with homelessness in a soft, gentle way, as voiced by our engaging protagonist, Jackson.  Ms. Applegate doesn't overstate things, or hammer them in, she simply lets the voice of Jackson speak, and his voice feels real and warm.  The choice to include a touch of magical realism here is also delightful.  It may be symbolism or metaphor, but whatever Crenshaw actually is, or isn't, doesn't really matter.  The point, which is subtle, is that we all struggle, and with that struggle comes some universality, namely that we all need help from time to time.  Did I wish, every now and then, that the prose was just a touch less sparse?  Well, yes, but this book, as it is, will be very accessible to anyone who might want to approach the subject of homelessness in a way that even younger children will understand well.  It's sweet without being saccarin, charming without being overt.  It's a fast read you can get through in one or two sittings and it is the kind of story kids may want to read more than once.  Brava.

"Keep Curious and Carry a Banana -- Wisdom From the World of Curious George" by Justin Martin and Liza Charlesworth

This little book joins a host of others in the market of "smile and move on."  Much like "The Blue Day Book" and the like, it uses illustrations to emphasize pithy aphorisms, the twist here being that they use images from the actual Curious George books to make their points.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it seems forced.  It did pull at my heartstrings, just a bit, given that Curious George harkens back to a special, gentle time in my life, a very long time ago.  For kids, an actual Curious George book might be better.  For adults, it's part of a novelty trend.  Not the best, not the worst of this kind.  Think "nifty gift" for someone having a significant birthday above the age of 45.

"Booked" by Kwame Alexander

The comparisons are inevitable.  When one writes a book as lauded as "Crossover" was, the follow-up will be compared, whether the author intended it to be, or not.  "Booked" is, and isn't, the same as "Crossover."  Both are verse novels with similar graphical layout provided by the publisher.  Both have Middle School boys who love sports and like girls.  Both have rivalry between the boys and their brother or friend, and both have boys who seem somewhat more mature than their Middle School ages.  After that, however, there are differences.  "Crossover" is about twin brothers who excel at Basketball, "Booked" is about a boy obsessed with Soccer.  Both are family tales, but very different families.  In "Crossover" it's an essentially strong family which is ripped apart, while in "Booked" it's a family with a lot of fault lines which are only temporarily repaired.  I saw the ending of "Crossover" coming, I was surprised by "Booked."  The nice rhythms and subtle humor are still there, but there are fewer concrete poems in "Booked."  That being said, "Booked" has some interesting and unique takes on how to create new literature from old -- blacking out words and phrases to create secret messages.  The whole book is very much a play on words, something that can bring readers back time and again and motivate them to create something themselves.  "Booked" didn't have the emotional impact of "Crossover" but then that first book by Mr. Alexander felt visceral and personal -- this one is mostly fun with a good dose of the reality of human complexities thrown in.  It's an engaging read, and should satisfy those who loved "Crossover."

"The Thing About Jellyfish" by Ali Benjamin

When I was in the 5th grade, the most popular girl in school died in a car accident.  While it was not my first experience with death, it was the first time I had experienced that sudden, unexpected, out of the natural order kind of loss.  It changed my life.  A phrase I've heard a good bit lately is "she gets it".  What people mean when they say this is that someone understands a thing on a deep, complex level.  They understand it fully.  They "Grok" it, for all you SciFi fans out there.  In the case of this book, Ali Benjamin "gets it."  She understands grief, and Middle School, and the autism spectrum disorder.  The main character, Suzy, is so dimensional and fully drawn that she seems to leap off the page.  The story is sad, but not too sad, and the writing is exquisite and gentle.  We careen between Suzy's mind, seeing a vibrant "inner life" and flashbacks in 2nd person.  The use of this rarely-used style makes the tale more personal, and even more powerful.  The progression is meaningful, the story lovely, and overall it is very easy to see how this enchanting, engaging novel made it to the finalist round for the National Book Award.  Brava to Ms. Benjamin on a first novel that "touched my heart."

"Echo" by Pam Munoz Ryan

A boy in 19th century Bavaria stumbles upon a fairy tale while lost in the forest.  In 1933, a young German boy's father struggles to hide his anti-Hitler sentiments as his unique son fights the rising tide of hatred.  In 1935, a pair of orphaned brothers work to stay together as they seek a home beyond a brutal orphanage in Pennsylvania.  In 1942, an American-born Mexican girl deals with a sudden move from Fresno to Southern California, her older brother leaving their family to serve in the war, and the racism surrounding her.  These stories are woven together like the music which prefaces each section.

This startlingly beautiful, powerful book represents the growing talents of Ms. Ryan, whose lyricism and brilliance really began to shine through with The Dreamer.  Clever, complex, and with unexpected plot turns, the story pulls on threads of very different types to create something that is new in many ways.  Critics who have called the resolution "pat" or unrealistic miss the point -- that there is a connection between people similar to the way disparate notes in a song can talk to each other.  In my humble opinion, this was a worthy novel of the Newbery Honor it received.  While long and not particularly fast-paced, it was a page-turner because the story-telling is rich, the characters compelling and well-drawn, and the "beats" of the story echo humanity.  Hence the title?  A delightful read.  Enjoy.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by April Genevieve Tucholke

This was one of those out-of-the-blue picks, where I knew absolutely nothing about the book, which can be fun.  To be honest, I began reading it with kind of a "huh?" sense -- was this Gothic Romance, Horror, or something else?  Turns out it's Gothic Horror, kind of, and another one of those "on one hand, on the other hand" books.  On one hand, it's decently written.  Take this phrase, "Dawn was taking off its clothes, kicking up its pinks and purples on the horizon."  Most of the book isn't that lyric, but there is a flow to the text.  There is enough detail to "see" things and a nice tension/sense of creepiness throughout.  On the other hand, the description gets wieldy after a while -- every meal and every bit of clothing is described in great detail.  The allusions to "Wuthering Heights" and other literary influences isn't subtle, either.  They get referred to ... a lot.  In my mind, these references and the detail drags down the narrative.  I kept asking myself, "Do I need to know this in order for the story to be told?"  The answer, in most cases, is "no."  My biggest issue was with the arch of the book.  It builds well with a very good sense of anticipation, and the denoument also has nice rhythms and a poetry of a kind.  It was the actual peak of the action I didn't like.  The book goes from being somewhat PG (Violet gets naked with a boy but nothing really happens and the worst four letter word is "Da**") to being seriously R in the turn of a page.  There is blood, and more blood, and lots more blood, and an implied rape or two and then everything kind of goes back onto an even keel.  For me, the tone of the peak action didn't match the tone of the rest of the book.  Like a bad mystery, a critical element was left out, barely hinted at along the way, and then introduced at the important moment for no other reason than to spur a sequel.  There is also bad-boy lust, but when the bad boy is a serial killer, I started disliking our heroine. Ironically, a new TV show, "Lucifer" has similar characters, but, IMHO, they do it better.  Finally, on a minor point, another issue I had were the missing parents.  I know it's very YA to have MIA parents, but in this case, given some of the things that happen, you really have to push that "willing sense of disbelief" to its farthest edge.  In any case, this started out as a good book for those who like to be chilled without the gore, but then there is gore, so I really don't know what to say about it.  Happy reading ?!?!

"To Sell is Human" by Daniel Pink

Once upon a time, I got a degree in Theatre Performance.  Many of the parents of students in my graduating class had disowned their kids for pursuing something so frivolous.  Not my mom.  She knew that the skills I learned in acting classes would support me no matter what career path I took.  The ability to read a room, adjust on the fly and present well to a group were "critical life skills" as far as she was concerned.  She could not have been more correct.  Daniel Pink picks up on this theme in his book, To Sell is Human, with the premise that we are all salesmen, in that we all have to "convince, cajole, persuade" and otherwise "move" people from one place to another regardless of the work we do.  He outlines the new "ABCs" of marketing in pithy prose, using engaging, personal stories throughout to emphasize his points.  In 230 quickly read pages he lays out not only his premise, but a series of activities and surveys designed for readers to understand themselves better and apply these techniques to their workplace routines.

Like all authors of these pop-psych, pop-sociology, pop-economics style books, Mr. Pink is good at what he does.  The book is accessible, even fun.  I giggled here and there and had a few "a-ha" moments, which is what he was going for, I'm sure.  At a discussion of this book recently, there were people who didn't agree with the premise and weren't convinced by his arguments, but everyone was able to "get" what he was saying, whether they came on board or not.  The Forbes review on the cover says "Vastly entertaining and informative".  I couldn't agree more. Whether you are looking for ideas or amusement (or both), this book is a worthwhile read.

"Becoming Mary Mehan" by Jennifer Armstrong

Originally marketed as two novellas, "The Dreams of Mairhe Mehan" and "Mary Mehan Awake", these stories have now been combined into a short book.  As a librarian, I tried to market the two original publications, and failed.  Having finally read them (yes, librarians push books they haven't read -- it's kind of inevitable when you have 15,000 books), I can see why they didn't appeal.  Which is not to say they are bad -- they aren't.  But they are significantly more adult-like than expected, given the length.  They are also quite different from each other in tone and style. 

The first half is about Mairhe Mehan, an uneducated Irish immigrant girl living in the slums of Washington, D.C. just before the start of the Civil War.  The text is rich and full of imagery, one might even say "James Joyce light", as Mairhe appears to have near psychic visions of the lives around her, particularly her brother.  The tale isn't so much linear as it is flowing.  Much like the lace Mairhe toils over, the narrative is full of weaves and weft and poetry.  In many ways, it is something to "experience" more than something to follow.  Ms. Armstrong's impressive research also comes into place.  She paints a detailed picture of place and time, right down to street names and ghetto smells.  The characters are fully drawn and the dialect perfection (although challenging to read at times).  In this book, Mairhe comes off as an ethereal creature, one that the author herself describes as an "unreliable narrator."  The appearance of Walt Whitman in the tale is surprising, but well done, and his presence creates a king of anchor for Mairhe, as well as a lyricism to the Irish tongue heard throughout (poets appreciate poets).

The second half is about Mary after the war.  I found it interesting that the most intense part of the story is avoided by the author.  We see the girl before, and the shattered young woman after, but the events in between are only seen as nightmarish flashbacks Mary tries to overcome.  Her new position is working in a household off of Lake Ontario for a good-natured naturalist and his wife,.  This part of the tale is much more linear, with everything spelled out, rather than alluded to.  The symbolism, however, is immensely powerful, as Mary, made into a ghost by her trauma, must find her way to the surface of life again. Plot descriptions say this part of the story is about love transforming her, but those who dislike romance need not fear.  This isn't a syrupy, drippy, "OMG I love you" tome.  It is far more subtle than that.  In my humble opinion, this isn't a tale about love making the difference, but about love being there when Mary is finally ready to live again.  In any case, this story, too, has a beauty, but it is more about clarity than the haunting, dark atmosphere of the first tale.

A short read, I deeply enjoyed it.  I hope you will, too.